


Artemis

by IWantColouredRain



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Character Swap, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, BAMF!Felicity Smoak, F/M, Felicity is the Arrow, Met before the island AU, Nice!Moira Queen, Not for Laurel Lance fans, Vigilante!Felicity Smoak, William as Felicity's biological son
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-23 03:09:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 35
Words: 177,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23638015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IWantColouredRain/pseuds/IWantColouredRain
Summary: My name is Felicity Queen, née Smoak. For five years, I was stranded on a hellish island. I did terrible things, all to survive to come back to my husband and son. Now, I have returned. But to fulfil my father-in-law's dying request, I must become someone else. I must become something else.S2 begins July 24th!
Relationships: Felicity Smoak & John Diggle, John Diggle/Carly Diggle, John Diggle/Lyla Michaels, Moira Queen/Walter Steele, Oliver Queen & William Clayton, Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak, Oliver Queen/Laurel Lance, Roy Harper/Thea Queen, Tommy Merlyn/Original Female Character(s), William Clayton & Felicity Smoak
Comments: 468
Kudos: 482





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity Queen née Smoak returns to Starling City after five years in hell, with a multitude of secrets and a self-imposed mission to save her family's city

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow.**

**Okay, notes on this universe.**

**Obviously in this, Felicity was on the island instead of Oliver, whom she was married to at the time, with infant son William (who is her and Oliver's child in this. They met when she was at MIT and he at Harvard-college Number 4, started dating and had a shotgun marriage. Oliver started to grow up/stop being an ass after meeting her.)**

**Oliver is engaged to Laurel now, but things are difficult with her, especially after Felicity's return. I don't like Laurel, and that will probably come across in my writing. Tommy (who is doing a medical residency in this S1-got the idea from the Dominators' alternate reality) isn't with anyone at the moment, but I was thinking maybe McKenna? Haven't decided yet.**

**William was seven months when the Gambit went down. Sara was Felicity's BFF and had gone with her.**

**Donna died when Felicity was young (because I believed for ages that Felicity was an orphan, maybe in foster care, and just never managed to reconcile myself to the backstory they ended up giving her, even though I liked Donna well enough.)**

**Felicity's vigilante outfit in this is like the one she wears in the LoT episode Doomworld. She wears a long purple coat, a purple half-mask, a black wig and knee-high boots. She also has a scar on her face from her glasses breaking in the wreck. While she will kill if she considers it necessary, it's not her first resort if she can incapacitate instead (I'm trying to keep her close to Canon!Felicity, while still making her harder due to the island). Also, she doesn't follow the List as religiously as Oliver, as while she and Robert were close, I can't see any version of Felicity being able to ignore 'ordinary' criminals when she could stop them, just because she didn't think they were the 'source' of the problem.**

**Canon!Oliver had 25% of his body covered in scars, but because Felicity is smaller than him physically, more of her is scarred.**

**So, I think that's all. I hope you guys like this.**

**Read, enjoy and review!**

* * *

**Chapter One**

**Pilot**

Felicity could hear the doctor whispering to her mother-in-law (was Moira still her mother-in-law? She was legally dead, after all.), giving the older woman a rundown of Felicity's injuries.

"Approximately 65% of her body is covered in scar tissue," the doctor stated. "She has second-degree burns on her back and arms. X-rays show at least 12 fractures that never properly healed, possibly more. She's suffering from malnourishment and various nutrient deficiencies, and probably has some sleep deprivation as well. She refused to speak with a counsellor."

Of course, Felicity had refused to speak with the counsellor they had offered her. She didn't trust them anymore, not after ARGUS, and she was still technically a part of the Queen family. She wouldn't put it past whomever they sent to sell anything she said to the press, even if she only said the bare minimum.

"Has she said anything about what happened?" Moira asked, voice unsteady.

"No, she's hardly said anything, save to ask about her son, ask for a pair of glasses, and answering questions as shortly as possible," Doctor Lamb replied. "In that order."

"I see," Moira sighed. A moment later, Felicity turned at the sound of the door opening.

Felicity felt her lower lip tremble as she stared at Moira. Originally, the Queen matriarch had been polite but cool towards her, fearing that Felicity would turn out to be yet another gold-digger seeking to gain access to the family fortune through Oliver. But as it became clear that was not the truth, and that she and Oliver weren't just a fling, Moira and Robert had both opened their hearts and homes to the young woman whom everyone credited with making Oliver grow up (even if Felicity had always genuinely believed that was wrong, and something would've kicked him into gear sooner or later). By the time of the wreck, Moira and Robert had become the parents that Felicity barely remembered having.

"Oh, Felicity," Moira breathed, her eyes welling with tears as she covered her mouth with her hand delicately.

Felicity sniffed, trying to keep from weeping herself. "I'm sorry, I just, I didn't know who to call," she stammered. "The only numbers I could remember were the mansion's and Oliver's old cell. And William-"

"Don't apologize, Felicity. You're family, and you always will be. I am so happy to see you." Moira interrupted. "William is away at the moment, unfortunately. Oliver had to go to Coast City for the week, and took William with him for a short vacation. But they're already on the way back."

"I'm so happy to see you too," Felicity admitted, the news that her son would soon be in her arms again making her lose the battle against her tears and falling into Moira's embrace, hugging her tightly.

* * *

It was Thea who greeted them. She was beaming broadly from ear-to-ear, grey-blue eyes shining with delight. Oliver wasn't surprised that she was so happy. She had worshipped the ground Felicity walked on, and Felicity in turn had doted on the younger girl, always happy to play games, tutor or shop with her. Naming Thea as godmother to William had been Felicity's idea. Thea had been as devastated by Felicity's death as by their dad's, demanding lessons in computer programming to honour her memory, telling Will everything she could about his mother, tending her grave faithfully. She had always insisted they were still alive.

Thea had been furious when Oliver had agreed to go on a date with Laurel, and enraged about them moving in together and getting engaged. She made it clear that Laurel was nothing but a (bad) substitute for Felicity, and that the brunette lawyer would never be able to replace the dyed-blonde IT specialist. She was probably one of the happiest people alive now that Felicity was back. For himself, it hadn't really sunk in yet for Oliver. He half-thought he must be dreaming.

"Hi Ollie!" Thea sang, flinging her arms around his neck in a hug, ignoring Laurel entirely. "Can you believe it? I knew she was still alive, I knew it!"

"Where," Oliver faltered and cleared his throat. "Where is she?"

"Upstairs, getting changed after having a long bubble bath," Thea replied. She looked down at William, who was hopping from foot-to-foot in excitement.

"Hey there, Kiddo!" she squealed, holding out her hand for a high-five. "Excited to meet Mommy?"

"Yeahyeahyeah!" Will cheered. "I knew she'd come back! I asked Santa, an' the tooth fairy, an' it was my birthday wish!"

"Clever boy," Thea ruffled his hair. "All of that must have done the trick. Your mom is so excited to see you, the first thing she did was ask where you were."

"Really?"

"Uh-huh," Thea confirmed as they entered the foyer.

At Oliver's side, Laurel was tense and silent, gripping his arm tightly. Truthfully, he barely registered her presence. His thoughts were full of Felicity.

His wife, the love of his life. To think that she had been alive all this time, struggling to survive on a deserted island, broke his heart into pieces. God, she must have been so frightened, so cold and hungry. They'd spent millions searching for evidence of survivors, finding nothing. The closest had been when the alert on Felicity's private email had gone off in 2010, sending Oliver and Tommy on a mission to Hong Kong. After the kidnapping had shattered his hopes of finding her alive, Oliver had resigned himself to accepting that she was lost. He'd called off the searches, and tried to move on with Laurel. If he hadn't given up, could he have found her earlier?

"How is she?" he forced out, throat dry.

Thea's beam faded a fraction and she gained a more serious demeanour. "She's-," Thea hesitated. "She's got a lot of scars. I heard Mom tell Walter that, like, 65% of her body was scar tissue. There's one on her face, and she's malnourished."

Oliver flinched, feeling sick. He rubbed a hand down the side of his face. "Does she know about-?"

"Yeah," Thea confirmed. She sent Laurel a cold look. "She got her hands on a laptop while at the embassy in China, and looked up the family. She saw the announcement."

Oliver winced again. That wasn't how he'd have wanted her to find out.

Moira appeared, smiling at him softly with his stepfather on her heels. "Darlings," she greeted them, kissing his and Will's cheeks and giving Laurel a polite greeting. Moira had liked Laurel, up until meeting Felicity. And while Moira had been gently urging him to move on over the past few years, he knew she was less than impressed with the way Laurel acted on occasion. Oliver didn't like some of her actions either, such as acting as if she were William's mother. It was something they had argued over several times.

Felicity was William's mom, whether she was alive or not. Nobody would ever be able to take her place, and Laurel shouldn't try.

"Felicity will be staying here for a while," Moira informed them, while William babbled excitedly to an indulgent Walter about his mother's miraculous return. "She doesn't have anybody else, and she is still family, regardless of the circumstances."

Laurel at last began to speak, but just then William let out a cry, and they all turned to follow his wide-eyed gaze. Felicity had gotten three-thirds of the way down the staircase without anyone noticing her arrival, she was so silent.

The sight of his long-lost wife hit Oliver like a punch to the solar plexus.

Her blonde hair, the golden locks she had cared for so intently with a hundred strokes twice a day ("a woman's hair is her crown in glory, Oliver!" she would exclaim whenever he teased her about it, often throwing her hairbrush at him jokingly.) was her natural brunette once again, still damp from her bath and hanging to her hips with a bunch of knots that she had tried and failed to remove. No doubt Thea had already organized a hair appointment for her.

She wasn't wearing any make-up, so everyone could see the dark circles beneath her eyes. Oliver had seen sticks with more weight on them than her, and her physique, once that of a young woman who spent her days in front of a computer screen and who's idea of working out consisted of thirty minutes of yoga per week, was now pure muscle, with callouses on her former-soft hands. She wore some of her old clothes (Oliver had had all of her stuff boxed up, and put in the attic, unable to bear throwing anything out. It seemed that at least her clothes had been retrieved). But the pink blouse and denim jeans didn't seem to suit her anymore, and not just because of the way they hung off her thin frame, a belt on the tightest notch to keep the jeans from falling off.

There was a vicious but old scar curving around her left eye, splitting her eyebrow in half and apparently barely-missing her eye.

She was the most beautiful sight that Oliver had ever seen.

"Felicity," he breathed her name like it was a prayer for salvation.

She didn't look at him. Her gaze was fixed on William, the same reverent look she'd had when he was first born in her eyes.

"Mommy?" Will asked tentatively, stepping closer to the stairs as she reached the bottom. Felicity knelt down, smiling softly and tenderly at him.

It seemed as if nobody dared to speak a word, as if they feared to break the spell over the two.

"William," she answered gently, carefully reaching out to brush a lock of hair out of his forehead. "Hello, sweetheart. I love you, so much. I'm _so_ sorry that I was gone for so long, Baby."

"But you're staying now, right?" Will half-checked, half-demanded. "I don't want you to go anywhere else, ever again! I want you to stay with me!"

"I will," she agreed promptly. "I am _never_ gonna leave you willingly, Baby. Not ever again."

William beamed broadly and flung himself at her chest. Oliver took a step forward, worried that the force would knock Felicity over, but he was both surprised and relieved when she deftly kept her balance. She pulled their son close to her chest and buried her face in his dark hair, stroking his back. Her body trembled faintly, and Oliver realized with a sharp pang that she was crying.

There was a flash in the background, and Oliver looked to see that Thea, who was also crying slightly, had snapped a photo of Felicity and William's first embrace in five years. His own eyes felt damp, and even Moira was sniffing slightly.

The only person who wasn't overcome by emotions at the scene was Laurel. When Oliver looked at his fiancée, he saw her tight jaw, and felt his stomach twist.

One look at Felicity had told him that he was still head-over-heels for her. But he loved Laurel too, he had promised to marry her.

What the hell was he gonna do?

* * *

Felicity woke silently, the way she had gotten used to waking up on the island. From the ache she felt, she had been tasered and probably had a mild concussion. There were four men in masks surrounding her, and she was tied to a chair. Most importantly, William and Thea were in the warehouse as well, also tied up. Unlike her, they had yet to regain consciousness.

Fury began to build in her chest, and she began subtly fidgeting with her bonds. The idiots had clearly way underestimated her, because they hadn't even frisked her. She still had her switchblade, hidden beneath her long sleeves.

"Did Robert Queen survive that accident?"

Felicity ignored the question, more focused on trying to see if Thea and William were breathing and getting out of the ties.

"I asked you a question, Miss Smoak! I expect an answer!" The head masked man, armed with a stun gun, snarled at her in an attempt at being menacing voice, but Felicity could spy the anxiety in the men's body language. These guys were amateurs, hired by somebody else.

In most cases, she'd probably have let them go, but they had hurt and kidnapped Will and Thea. No way would she let them live after that.

Her lack of an answer earned her a shock from the stun gun, and she hissed, more in surprise than anything else. Pain and her had had a little chit-chat several years back, and now Felicity was well-able to ignore far worse than a few stings from a low-powered taser. This was nothing compared to some of the stuff she had gone through.

"Did he make it to the island?" the leader demanded. "Did he tell you anything?"

Felicity refused to answer, and it earned her another shock. This one lasted longer, but Felicity had withstood worse torture than their meagre attempts, and she stayed silent, not even grunting.

The man stepped back and huffed in contempt at her.

It gave her the room she needed, so she looked him in the eye and replied at last. "Yes. He did."

All three of the men went silent. "What did he tell you?"

She exhaled, preparing herself. "He told me that I'm going to kill you."

There was a long moment of silent before they broke into chuckles, genuinely amused by her claim.

Years ago she would have been insulted, but now she was grateful for society's ingrained misogyny. Often, it was her most useful weapon. She waited patiently, poised to strike as the masked man turned back to her.

"You're delusional, Princess. You're zip tied to that chair."

Taking that as her cue, Felicity slowly raised her hands up to show that she was now free. "Not anymore," she smirked, before jumping into motion.

At her sudden movement, they too sprang into action, but far too slowly. Their guns had been hanging off their shoulders, and they scrambled to try to pull them up to aim as Felicity swung the chair toward the closest masked man, shattering it over his head. Palming her switchblade, she twisted and buried it in the chest of the second man as he came up behind her. He fell away with a surprised grunt as the first man tried to grab her, but she jabbed upward with a broken chair leg she'd just grabbed, shoving it into his chest.

She turned just in time to use the man's body as a shield from the gunfire from the third man; panicked, he turned and ran like the hounds of hell were at his heels. Felicity paused long enough to check Will and Thea's pulses before hurrying after him.

Felicity cornered him just outside, on the roof of the neighbouring building just as his gun ran out of bullets, and she took advantage of his uncertainty by swinging towards him on an old, rusted chain and kicking him onto the ground. As he tried to recover, she put him in a headlock, and he choked out a pleading, "You don't have to do this!"

"Yes, actually, I do," she responded coldly. "You hurt my son, my sister. If you hadn't touched them, I would have let you go. Now, who hired you?"

"I dunno," he wept. "Some guy in a mask offered us a million each to kidnap and interrogate you about the wreck. Called himself Grayson, probably an alias. I don't know anything else! Please!"

Felicity snapped his neck. She stepped back and let the body fall to the ground, staring at it hollowly with her shoulders slumped.

Then she turned and left, rushing back in the direction of her son and sister-in-law.

* * *

Oliver sprinted into the hospital room, chest heaving and heart racing in his throat.

"Daddy!" William exclaimed, sniffling and reaching out for an embrace from his position on his mother's lap. Oliver was quick to oblige, scooping Will into his arms and hugging him tightly, kissing his head.

"What happened?" he asked Felicity, who was leaning back against the bedframe and looking exhausted. Thea was in a chair, sipping at a soda and also appearing strained.

"I'd like to know that too," Quentin Lance interrupted, entering the room alongside his partner, Lucas Hilton. He gave Felicity, who had gone pale and rigid at his arrival, a soft smile. "How are you doing, sweetheart? Helluva way to welcome you home."

"Detective Lance," Felicity choked out, tears welling. "I-I'm fine. I-Sara-I'm so sorry, I tried to grab her, but it was so sudden, and-" Oliver flinched at the pain in her eyes and voice. Will peeked out at them, concern for his mother wrinkling his little brow. Thea reached out to clutched Felicity's trembling hand.

"Felicity," Lance said, reaching out to take her free hand. "Don't apologize. It's not like you can control the weather. I've never blamed you, not for anything. I miss Sara more than anything, would burn the world if it brought her back to me, but it's not your fault. You were her best friend, the pair of you were closer than she and Laurel. Don't blame yourself, I know you would've saved her if you could."

"I tried," she confirmed lowly. "Thank you." Lance nodded, and they switched to questioning Felicity, who had been the only one conscious during the event, about the kidnapping.

The whole thing terrified Oliver. To think that, a mere day after getting her back, he might have lost her again? William too. No, he couldn't do it. He couldn't lose her twice.

He had promised to protect her, and though he had failed so terribly (the scar on her shoulder that had been revealed when her top slipped, the others he hadn't seen, her flinches whenever she was touched, all of it practically shouted that her claims of being alone the whole time were complete bullshit.) he was determined not to do so again.

"Alright then, honey," Lance patted Felicity's shoulder. "Get some rest. For what it's worth, welcome home."

"Thank you," she murmured.

Lance gave Oliver a brisk nod as he left. Their relationship had become strained after Laurel and he got back together, as had Quentin and Laurel herself's relationship. Lance didn't approve. He had once said that they brought out the worst in each other, not the best.

Oliver suspected that he was right. Laurel had known him as the fuck-up Ollie, the one before Felicity had come into his life and made him care about more than himself and his family. She wasn't surprised when he slid back into old habits, and so it was easy to do so. Sometimes Oliver wondered why they were still together at all.

"Let's go home," Felicity sighed, climbing off the bed.

"Mommy, carry me?" William requested, making her lips twitch upwards into a smile. "Please?"

"Gladly, my love," Felicity breathed in response. She didn't look at Oliver as she took their son and placed him on her hip in a display of strength she wouldn't have been capable of five years ago.

Not for the first time, Oliver wondered what had happened to her on that godforsaken island.

* * *

"Felicity, wait!"

Felicity stopped and turned, raising an eyebrow in bemusement at the sight of Oliver hurrying after her with a muscular black man following him.

"Oliver, what is it?" she asked mildly. "I have an appointment with the mall. It's very urgent."

"Here, take my card," he offered in response, holding out the black credit card.

She shot him an annoyed look. "I don't need it," she replied stiffly. "Thea's loaned me hers."

Felicity hated to have to rely on her (former?) sister-in-law for money, but until she was declared alive again, she couldn't touch any of her savings, meaning that she needed the charity.

"Please, just take it," Oliver begged.

"Fine," Felicity muttered, accepting the card and mentally vowing not to use it. "Is that it?"

"No," Oliver replied slowly. He hesitated a second then gestured at the man standing silently and patiently beside him. "This is John Diggle. He's your new bodyguard."

Felicity's eyes went wide and her mouth dropped. "He's my _what_?" she hissed.

"Your new bodyguard," Oliver repeated. "You haven't been home a full week yet, and already you've been kidnapped. The paparazzi are dying to get a hold of you and interview you about the wreck and the island. Mr. Diggle can protect you. Keep you safe."

She scoffed and flipped her once-again blonde hair over her shoulder, eyes blazing behind her glasses. "I can take care of myself," she gritted out. "I don't need a babysitter." She shot an apologetic look at Mr. Diggle. "No offence." Then she looked back at Oliver. "You have no right to assign someone to follow me!"

"I'm your husband!"

"You lost the right to call yourself my husband when you kissed your ex-girlfriend at my funeral!" Felicity spat back, remembering the photo of Oliver and Laurel kissing in front of the empty coffin with her picture on top of it.

Oliver recoiled, looking stricken. "That wasn't what it looked like," he croaked out.

Felicity glared, crossing her arms. "Either way," she pointed out. "You're engaged to her now. Bigamy is still illegal as far as I know, so you are no longer my husband. Soon as I'm legally alive again, we can arrange for a divorce."

She forced herself to sound indifferent when she said that, ignoring the hurt she felt at the prospect. She'd known that he would move on while she was gone, but that didn't mean it didn't still hurt. And did it really have to be _Laurel Lance_? What was it about that woman?

"Meaning that you have no right to assign me a bodyguard," Felicity finished. "If you're gonna go around hiring security details, why not assign Mr. Diggle to protect our son instead?"

"Because Will has security already," Oliver snapped back, frustrated and upset.

"Good, so Mr. Diggle is free to find some other person to protect," Felicity declared in a voice full of fake cheer. "'cause I sure as hell don't need him. Again, no offence."

"None taken, ma'am," Mr. Diggle replied mildly. Felicity gave him points for his calm attitude, at least. Though whether that'd hold up in a firefight was another question entirely.

"Do it for William," Oliver pled.

"Excuse me?"

"He's already lost you once," Oliver reminded her. "W-he has just got you back. Don't make u-him lose you again. Please Felicity, I'm begging you here."

She clenched her jaw, glaring furiously at him, and gave a sharp nod. "Fine," she gave in curtly. She turned and forced a smile at her new problem, holding out a hand for him to shake. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Diggle was it?"

"Diggle or Dig," he responded, shaking her hand. "Nice to meet you too ma'am."

"Felicity," she requested. "I'm not old enough to be a 'ma'am', and I need to get my surname sorted out."

Oliver flinched at that, but she ignored him. "Well, I have to go shopping," she said. "I desperately need one of these tablet things, plus a new laptop. So, shall we, Dig?"

She didn't look at her (sort-of) husband as she left.

* * *

Felicity smirked in satisfaction as she watched the numbers in Adam Hunt's bank account drop to zero. If he'd complied with her demands, she'd have simply taken the $40 million and given it to the people suing him. But he hadn't, so instead she'd taken the money and everything else too, giving the extra to various charities.

She turned to the notebook, opening it to the page with Adam Hunt's name, and drew a neat line through the name, a pleased smile on her face as she put the book away.

"Mommy?"

Her smile turned from coolly smug to bright at the title, and she turned to look at her son, hovering in the entrance to her room.

"Yes, Love?" she asked gently, heading over to him.

"Will you sing me to sleep?" Will asked her. "And read a story? Daddy told me that you'd read and sing to me when I was a baby. He has a recording of you, but now you're back so I don't need it anymore, do I?"

"No," Felicity confirmed, feeling like she was on cloud nine to remember that fact. "And I would love to. Will you go and pick out a book for us? I just need to turn my computer off."

William beamed, hugged her for the millionth time (not that she was complaining. She had five years of cuddles with her son to make up for, after all.), and rushed to his bedroom to pick out a book for them to read.

Felicity, meanwhile, switched off her laptop after deleting the history and tucked the notebook safely away. She was crossing the hall to William's room when Laurel cleared her throat, making her stop and turn to look at the other woman.

Laurel gave her a forced smile, one so obviously fake that Felicity nearly scoffed. Felicity, meanwhile, didn't bother. She didn't like Laurel, and she saw no reason to pretend otherwise. Laurel had treated Sara, who was at least thrice the woman her sister was, terribly, and had constantly thrown herself at Felicity's husband while they were together, even kissing him at her funeral from the photographs. It was hard to believe that a bitch like Laurel was related to Sara and Quentin Lance.

"Is there something that you wanted, Laurel?" Felicity asked indifferently.

"I just," she paused and sighed. "I know it has to be hard coming back to a whole different world," Laurel sighed, "I want you to know that Oliver and I didn't intend to -"

"Disrespect me?" Felicity offered. She kept her voice indifferent, hiding the hurt she felt at knowing that the love of her life had moved on while she was being tortured and forced into killing to stay alive and come back to her son.

"Right," Laurel confirmed, looking uncomfortable. "Well-"

''- Now you feel your relationship shifting and you want me to stay away but you don't know how to ask without being a bitch," Felicity stated, arching her brow. "Look, Laurel, I never expected Oliver to be alone for the whole time I was gone. He'd never manage, he's not the type of person who can be alone forever. But I just want to clarify something. Marry Oliver, don't marry him, none of my business anymore. But if you _ever_ try and tell my son that you're going to be his 'new mother' again, I _will_ make you regret it. William is _my_ son, you have no rights to him, even if I wasn't alive, you _still_ wouldn't be his mother, and you definitely aren't now. Understood?

His teacher, his aunt, his grandmother and even Walter, they all have the right to give input on how he should be raised. Oliver and I are the ones with the ability to make the actual decisions for him. That's it. You have no right to William, and if you try to replace me, I'll make you pay."

She kept her voice steely and full of conviction, suppressing a satisfied smirk at the unsettled expression that Laurel wore. That the brunette had dared to say she would be Will's mother infuriated her. Felicity had lost everything else, but she refused to lose her son.

Laurel Lance had already stolen Felicity's husband, she wouldn't get her son as well.

Satisfied that Laurel had gotten the message, Felicity turned on her heel and went into William's room, a smile once again jumping to her lips at the sight of him in his bed with some sort of superhero sheets and holding a copy of Artemis Fowl in his small hands. Felicity realized it was her old copy, and had to suppress her tears.

"Ready? Did you brush your teeth and everything?" she asked affectionately as she perched beside him, swinging her legs up onto the bed and wrapping an arm around his slim shoulders as he cuddled into her side.

"Yup!" he confirmed happily. "Mommy?"

"Yes Baby?"

"I'm so glad that you're home with me again."

Felicity exhaled shakily and kissed the top of his head. "Baby, I have never been happier than right here with you," she responded.

She could sense Oliver's presence in the doorframe, leaning against it and watching them, but she ignored him, focusing on opening the book to the bookmarked page and beginning to read.


	2. Honour Thy Father(-in-Law)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity is declared alive again, and continues her work on the List while struggling to adjust

**Chapter Two**

**Honour Thy Father(-in-Law)**

Felicity finished her stretches and stood, switching off the TV after ejecting the Yoga Burn DVD. The Felicity of five years ago would never have managed fifteen minutes of the intense yoga workout. Now, she had done the entire forty-five-minute session, after a night spent hacking Marcus Redman and returning the Halcyon pension plan money to the employees he had cheated, and she wasn't even very winded. God knew that she'd done a lot more labour-intensive exercises, for a lot longer.

The fact that it had taken her so long to hack Redman bothered her though. She'd received a tutorial from ARGUS to catch her up on those missing years back in 2010, and had also gotten to update her skills some more while in Russia, but she was still a far cry from the expert she had once been, given the quick speed at which tech advanced. She needed to get that problem fixed.

She rolled up her mat, put it away, and went to wash up in the bathroom. She avoided looking at herself in the mirror, not wanting to see the scars marring her body. It was probably a good thing that Oliver was with Laurel now. Surely the sight of her scars would repulse him, and the thought of seeing him recoil from her in disgust hurt like a knife to the chest (something she had personal experience with).

Even knowing it was probably for the best, her heart still throbbed in her chest. Eventually, once she had pulled on a new red dress and a matching cropped cardigan that covered most of her scars (all of the clothes she had bought were chosen to hide the evidence of her years in hell), she could no longer avoid it. She forced herself not to pay attention to the ugly scar that marred her face, an ever-present reminder of the wreck, and put on her make-up, using as much foundation as she could get away with to try and hide the scar as much as possible.

Then she couldn't delay any longer, and headed down to the living room where the family was waiting for her.

On the TV, a reporter was announcing how Redman had been hacked and had lost several million, though there was no announcement as to the pensioners receiving their dues. That was good, because Felicity suspected that the people would most likely lose it again if it became known.

"Felicity, good morning," Oliver greeted her in an overly-bright tone. "Sleep well?"

She gave him a tight smile, humming. "I slept fine, thank you Oliver," she replied politely, inwardly hating that they had come to this. Since when had they been so stilted with one another? Even when they first met, they had instantly been comfortable with each other, Felicity having no problems telling him to his face that he was a spoilt idiot, and him able to relax around her due to her lack-of-artifice.

She frowned. "Shouldn't you be dropping Will to kindergarten?" She had learned that Oliver was a far more involved father than his own parents had been when he was their boy's age, much to her relief. She loved Moira, and had loved Robert, as if they were her own parents, but that didn't mean she agreed with everything she'd done. Quite the opposite, in fact. Exhibit A: her crusade to right Robert's wrongs and make up for his sins.

As part of his quest to be involved in their son's life, Oliver always dropped him off at kindergarten on his way to QC. The past few days Felicity had been going with him, but the court session to have her declared alive again meant that she couldn't make it today.

Oliver shook his head. "Lissy, you're being declared alive this morning," he said in that reasonable tone that said he thought she was acting mad about something, such as when she'd started to cry in panic right before being introduced to his parents, or the like. "Of course I'm coming. I want to support you. Raisa dropped Will to school."

"Right," she mumbled. "Well then. Your choice, I guess."

Just like you chose to kiss Laurel at my funeral, she added mentally, hearing her own mental bitterness. Damn it, she wanted him to be happy. She did. But did he have to seek comfort from his ex-girlfriend while they were burying her (so to speak). And why did it always have to be Gorgeous Laurel fucking Lance.

Walter cleared his throat and interrupted the tension. "Do you have any questions about today, Felicity?" he asked her kindly. "It's a simple proof-of-life declaration. Just read out a brief, prepared statement to the judge, and then your death-in-absentia judgment will be voided."

Felicity nodded briskly. "I got it," she promised. "No need to worry."

* * *

Felicity had thought she recalled how intense the paparazzi could be, that she was prepared for them. She was wrong.

They descended on her the moment that she exited the vehicle, reaching out and yelling questions at her, cameras flashing, blinding her as effectively as the destruction of her glasses had.

"Mrs. Queen, did anyone else survive the wreck?"

"Mrs. Queen, are you and your husband getting a divorce now that he's engaged to Laurel Lance?"

"Mrs. Queen, can you confirm the rumours that you were not alone on the island?"

"Mrs. Queen, where did you receive your injuries from?"

She felt her breathing quicken, panicked by the press of people invading her personal space and yelling at her. She was vividly aware of the knife hidden in her dress, and only barely managed to fight the urge to grab it. Oliver shielded her, murmuring soothingly into her ear as he guided her up the steps into the courthouse while Diggle blocked the reporters from her.

"Are you okay?" Thea asked her worriedly once they had gotten inside and escaped the crush of press seeking private information about Felicity's life as if they had any right to it.

"I, I'm fine," Felicity stammered, her hands trembling a bit as she smoothed down her dress. "I just-I had forgotten how intense they were."

"It's alright dear," Moira said sympathetically, rubbing her arm.

"You're okay," Oliver added, expression shining with concern as he stroked her back. "Do you need a minute?"

Felicity pulled away from him, stamping down on the guilt that sprang up at the hurt that flashed across his face, and straightened up, patting her hair to ensure it hadn't fallen out of its' bun. "I'm okay," she assured them. "Shall we?"

They went to courtroom, and Felicity got through the whole thing as best she could, trying to ignore the flashbacks she was fading in and out of as she explained the bare minimum of the events to the judge.

"There was a storm. We had turned around, but it must have been too late. The boat-it was ripped apart. Somehow I ended up on a lifeboat. I was the only one who survived, as far as I know. I drifted for a few days, and eventually arrived at Lian Yu. About two and a half weeks ago, I saw a fishing boat passing by, so I lit a bonfire to get their attention. They took me to China, and I went to the U.S Embassy, where I was transferred to Starling General. That's everything."

"Your Honour, we move to vitiate the death-in-absentia filed after Felicity's disappearance at sea aboard the Queen's Gambit five years ago," the Queen family lawyer, Jean Loring, stated. "Unfortunately we will not be requesting that the declaration of death filed for the petitioner's father-in-law, Robert Queen, be rescinded. The Queen family is only entitled to one miracle, I'm afraid."

"Motion carried," the judge responded, slamming his gavel. "Felicity Megan Queen née Smoak is once again entitled to access her funds and other assets, any bequeaths made in her will are to be returned. Welcome back, Mrs. Queen."

"Thank you, Your Honour," Felicity murmured in reply, before they dispersed to allow the judge to continue with his day.

Moira and Walter had to hurry off to the offices, but Oliver insisted that he would see her home. Felicity was in no shape to argue with him.

Of course, they had to pass by Laurel and a client on the way out, the other woman sending Oliver a bright smile that he returned, and the two of them agreeing to meet for lunch. Felicity looked away, rubbing at her sore head with the tips of her fingers and half wishing that she was back on the island, where everything was so much _simpler_ , if not _easier_. Only partially, though. She'd still rather be here with the hurt of Oliver and Laurel's relationship being rubbed in her face constantly and have access to her son and Thea, then to be back in the place that she was fairly certain provided inspiration for Dante's seventh circle of hell.

Outside, Martin Somers was holding an impromptu press conference, cockily insisting that he would be declared innocent. Felicity felt her lip curl in disgust. She hated men like that, who thought that they were above everybody else.

Somers was on the List, and Felicity had looked him up when she saw his name in the news and recognised it. He was accused of murdering a father who uncovered Somer's dealings with the Triad, and he had the DA in his pocket, meaning that Emily Nocenti had turned to CNRI for help getting justice for her father.

Felicity had decided that, if he was in the news and on her List, she might as well take him out next. She'd been debating with herself how to take him out. Simply emptying his accounts like with Redman and Hunt wouldn't do much, given his links to the Triad and the drug trade. She could seduce him. ARGUS and Talia had both taught her how to wrap a man around her little finger, make them forget the scars marring her body and see only an innocent, pretty woman without a thought in her head. But that would take months, and Felicity was in no mood for such a long operation.

Meaning that taking him out was her best option. Excellent, Felicity had a lot of stress built up that she could use on his bodyguards.

First, however, she needed to escape her companions. She had set up a base of operations in the basement of an old QC factory, but she had no cover for it yet. She was hoping to turn the upper levels into offices for the tech company she planned to start up, but that was a while away. She waited until they were in the car at a crossroads, still moving, before jumping out of the car and running off, disappearing into the maze of alleyways.

* * *

Oliver gaped in shock, utterly stunned by what Felicity had just done.

"Not again," Diggle grumbled under his breath.

"Did she seriously just jump out of a moving car and run off?" Thea demanded. Unlike Oliver, she seemed more gleeful than horrified.

"This isn't funny!" Oliver sputtered at his younger sister. "Has she lost her _mind_?" Then Diggle's words sank in and he turned to glare at the bodyguard. "Did you just say 'not again'? How many times has she done this?"

"This is the fourth time she's run off," the dark-skinned man admitted shamefully.

Oliver's glare deepened. "Aren't you ex-Special Forces?" he snapped. "How hard is it to keep one woman from evading you?"

Diggle grimaced and didn't answer. Oliver sighed, shoulders slumping, and pulled out his phone to phone her. He wasn't surprised when it went to voicemail.

* * *

When Felicity got back from threatening Somers, she found Oliver waiting for her.

"How was your walk?" he bit out, eyes navy from suppressed anger.

She raised her chin defiantly, meeting his gaze without any guilt. She was a grown woman, perfectly capable of taking care of herself. _He'd_ been the one to assign her a bodyguard without talking to her about it first. She hadn't done anything wrong.

"Fine," she informed him crisply. He sighed and his shoulders fell.

"Let's go and catch up," he suggested, apparently deciding not to pursue the argument for the moment. She pursed her lips, then gave a short nod.

"Fine, just let me change," she replied, heading upstairs and swapping the professional dress she had worn to court for a plain blue shirt with three-quarter length sleeves and jeans paired with runners, her hair pulled into a braid.

They made their way to 'their spot' in silence.

Their spot was a large oak tree slightly off the beaten path that traversed the Queens' estate, with a bench-swing hanging from one of the large branches. Felicity couldn't deny it was good to sit down. Her ribs were still recovering from Kovar's torture a few weeks previous, and she hadn't exactly been giving them time to heal properly. Had it really been so short a time since she'd left the island?

"Tell me something," Oliver finally broke the silence they'd been in since leaving the mansion.

"Tell you what?" Felicity returned mildly, keeping her gaze fixed on the flowers spouting in the grass.

"You don't like people being behind you," Oliver responded.

Felicity tensed. "So?"

"So, what else?" Oliver sounded like he was pleading. "Tell what I need to do to help you, how do I help you adjust better?"

"I'm fine," Felicity told him shortly.

"No, I recognize this," Oliver murmured softly. "I remember you doing this. Every time we fought, or something convinced you that our lives together would come apart, you would start retreating, throwing up walls around your heart."

"Well, I was right, wasn't I?" Felicity pointed out. "I told you that I didn't believe in happily ever after, and doesn't all of this prove me right?"

She felt him flinch, and she let out an exhausted sigh, running a hand over her hair, tugging at her braid slightly and anchoring herself with the faint pain that only barely registered on her pain scale.

"I don't like people being out of my sight if I'm in the room with them," she stated shortly, feeling him perk up a bit at the admission. "It-alarms me. I need eyes on everyone, on the exits, otherwise I start getting-stressed." Panicked was a better word, but it would be weak to tell him that.

"Okay, so I'll make sure that you don't have to deal with that," Oliver replied. He ran a hand over his hair before going on. "Felicity, I know that you're used to being on your own now, but please, _please_ , stop ditching Diggle. It's not safe. I need-I can't lose you twice Felicity. Please. If not for me, then for William. We just got you back."

"I'm not yours to lose anymore," she reminded him lowly. He looked pained at that, but acknowledged her words.

"I know but-I still-"

"Don't!" she cut him off sharply. "Don't do that to me, Oliver. Not if you really care."

He deflated. "Please keep Diggle with you?" he requested, returning to the original topic. "For our son, if nothing else."

Felicity clenched her jaw before nodding curtly. "Fine," she consented grudgingly.

He went on tentatively. "Would you tell me what happened?"

Felicity went rigid. "No."

She saw him deflate in her peripheral vision, and sighed again. Even now, she couldn't bear to see him so pained. She twisted to look at him, gripping the rope of the swing for balance.

"If you answer one of my questions, I'll answer one of yours," she offered curtly, ignoring the pain in his eyes when she shifted away from his attempt to grasp her hand. He had no right to act like they were still together. It wasn't fair to her, or to Laurel either. Felicity didn't like the attorney, but she wouldn't participate in hurting her. She was a better person than that. Well, she tried to be, even if her soul was long since damned to hell.

"Okay, deal," Oliver agreed immediately. "You first?"

"How long did it take you to get back together with her after I went missing?" Felicity asked without hesitation, seeing him flinch. "Because there's a picture of the two of you at my funeral-"

"It wasn't like that, Felicity, I swear!" Oliver exclaimed. "I just, I was falling apart, and she was just being a good friend. Then she was about to kiss my cheek, but I turned my head and our lips met for a second. I pulled away immediately, I swear."

"Right," Felicity muttered. Sure, of course it was an accident. Hah. She'd believe it of Oliver, because she still believed his love for her had been genuine. She was the first woman he _hadn't_ cheated on. But she wouldn't be surprised if Laurel, who had spent Felicity and Oliver's entire relationship throwing herself at Oliver and trying to get him back, had deliberately kissed him and made it seem like an accident. "So, when, if not then?"

"In late 2010," Oliver explained tiredly, raking a hand through his short hair. "There was-I couldn't bring myself to believe you were really dead. Not then, at any rate. I had offered millions in reward money for information, had alerts set up on your email accounts, so on. One of them was pinged by this person in Hong Kong. Tommy and I went to check it out, but it turned out it was an attempt to kidnap us and get ransom money."

Felicity bit the inside of her cheek, suppressing the urge to tell him the truth. It had been one of the most horrific moments of her life, when she had looked through her sniper scope and realized that her husband and his best friend were her targets. She'd literally had to beg Waller to let them live, swearing she would make them back off.

Felicity had absolutely no doubts that if she hadn't been successful, Waller would have had them killed. Maybe she'd have gone through with her threat to kill William and Thea too, just as a warning to Felicity not to disobey her. Or maybe Will and Thea would have been left alone, as continuing leverage. Felicity hadn't been willing to risk it. Better to shatter Oliver's hopes and frighten him and Tommy then let them die. She hadn't let them be hurt during the staged kidnapping, anyway.

"After that," Oliver sighed and looked away. "After that, I accepted that you were gone. I figured you wouldn't want me to wallow all my life. Laurel, Laurel made sense. She was familiar."

"I never expected you to be alone," Felicity confirmed. "But that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt to see you with her. And that she told Will she was going to be his new mom? Even if I was dead, I wouldn't want you to have your new wife to take my place as his mother."

Oliver looked stricken. "I didn't know that she told him that," he insisted. "I never meant-you're not replaceable, Lissy. You never have been."

Felicity stood and walked away a bit, crossing her arms defensively over her chest. "You can't say stuff like that anymore, Oliver," she said, voice strained. "It's not fair. Not to any of us."

He looked down at the ground.

"You turn," she reminded him after several moments. "Ask me something."

He glanced at her, a hint of hope in his blue eyes, before speaking. "The scar on your face. Where did it-?"

"The wreck," Felicity spoke tonelessly, trying to distance herself from the memories. "S, Sara and I were talking. We knew that the storm was getting closer, but we'd asked a few times if there was anything to worry about, and the crew kept saying that everything was fine."

She stopped for a moment, standing and beginning to pace, feeling her nails dig into her palms as she fought to keep from getting submerged in her dark memories.

"Just then, a wave broke right through the wall," she went on, loathing the faint tremble in her voice. "Sara and I were both washed out of the room, and I hit my head. My glasses broke, the glass cut into my cheek. That's where the scar came from."

"How did you see, then?"

Felicity shrugged. "I adjusted to seeing fuzzy shapes," she informed him with a dry voice. The fact that she was far-sighted at least helped with her archery, but it made close combat a bitch. Slade and Shado had taken to making her wear blindfolds when training, to help her learn to rely on her hearing and other senses, and she'd gotten used to having a constant headache.

"Felicity, I'm sorry," Oliver said brokenly.

She shrugged, determined to be strong. "Well, what's done is done," she stated briskly. "Shall we go back to the mansion? William should be home from school soon."

He nodded quietly, rising and falling into step with her.

"So, you're working at QC now then?" Felicity asked as casually as she could.

He gave a weak smile, nodding at her. "Yup," he confirmed.

"What are you doing there?"

He shrugged, tucking his hands into his pockets. "I'm, uh, I'm Chief Operations Officer," he explained. "I'm okay at it, I guess. I enjoy interacting with the people."

She shot him a soft smile. "I have no doubt that you're a lot better than 'okay'," she said. "You've always been far more intelligent than you let on, and you've a talent for making people fall for you." She knew that from experience.

Oliver shot her a shy smile in response as they arrived back at the mansion, where his expression fell at the sight of Laurel, who was scowling.

"Oh, so _this_ is why you missed our lunch, huh?" she snapped resentfully.

Oliver's jaw clenched. "Laurel," he replied lowly, warningly.

Felicity slipped around the lawyer and inside, trying to block out the argument as she went to her room to continue her research on events and pop culture that she had missed.

* * *

She took Diggle with her to the apartment, leaving him in the car as she went to speak with Laurel.

"Felicity, hi," Laurel greeted her uncomfortably. "Uhm, I don't want to be rude or anything, but what are you doing here?"

"Look, Laurel, I want to apologize," Felicity replied. "I'm not trying to get between you and Oliver. I realize that I'm causing problems, but it's not intentional."

Laurel gave a tight smile. "It's no one's fault," she said, in a practiced way. "Nobody could have predicted this."

The implications made Felicity's temper flare. How dare Laurel act as if Felicity were the intruder in a life that had been hers long before it was Laurel's? "Which circumstances?" she shot back, as always hitting her target perfectly. "The whole, me getting stranded on an island, thing. Or the me being rescued one?"

Laurel looked indignant, beginning to speak, only for Felicity to cut her off.

"Get down!"

She dragged the brunette out of the way, just in time to save her from being showered with glass as the assassin came crashing through the window. Forcing Laurel to keep low, Felicity dragged the panicking woman out of the kitchen/living room and into the hallway.

"Go and hide, and call 9-1-1," she ordered her curtly, shoving her into what looked like the bedroom, before turning and rushing back into the chaos.

She was pissed to recognize the white-haired assassin.

Chien Na Wei. China White. How had she escaped? Damn it, Felicity regretted not killing her during the mess in Hong Kong.

She forced herself not to think of Maseo, Tatsu and _especially_ not sweet little Akio, instead focusing on observing her bodyguard fight the Triad leader. Diggle was good, but Chien was better, and she was the one with a gun, Diggle's own firearm having ended up on the other side of the room during the struggle. Felicity crept around the fighting pair, managing to obtain a sharp kitchen knife. It was unweighted, meant for chopping vegetables, not fighting assassins. Still, it would have to do.

Felicity had always been good at knives. In fact, they were the first weapon she had managed to master. Throwing knives was simple physics, and maths had always been soothing for her. She threw it, and of course she hit her mark perfectly, the blade diving into Chien Na Wei's arm, preventing her shooting Diggle.

Felicity followed it up with another knife, this one a butter knife that got the white-haired woman in the shoulder. Shooting her a look of pure loathing, Chien Na Wei turned and fled, the sound of blaring police sirens proving that she had lost this round.

* * *

It stung to see how Oliver went straight for Laurel on arriving. It shouldn't have. He was with Laurel now, it was her that they had come to kill. She was the one crying hysterically. Of course he ought to go and see to her first.

Felicity had never needed anybody to look after her. She'd been doing it ever since her mom died when she was eight. Even before that, Donna Smoak had been so busy working to keep them afloat that Felicity had been left alone more often than not.

But even though it shouldn't have hurt, it _did_. After all, for all he knew she had been defenceless during the attack.

So much for not being able to lose her again.

Felicity dusted off her jeans, ignoring Oliver's concerned look. "Where's William?" she asked him curtly, ignoring the way that Laurel clutched at him for dear life and he stroked her hair soothingly.

"At the mansion. Are you-?"

"Right," Felicity cut him off with a brisk nod. "I'll go get Mr. Diggle and head back then. You should-" She waved vaguely at Laurel, and then, before he could say anything else, she twisted on her heel and went into the kitchen where Dig was holding an icepack to his injured cheek.

"She got lucky," the black man told her with a smile.

"I think we're the ones who got lucky," Felicity replied. "You saved us."

A sharp look crossed his face at that. "Oh, I think that you would have been fine. You did good with those knives."

Felicity pasted on a mask of girlish innocence, letting out a giggle and flipping her hair over her shoulder. Old tricks, but effective. She had long since learned how to put on a façade of innocence to fool almost everyone. "Oh, I just got lucky too," she claimed. "I'm good with physics."

"Uh-hum," he gave a doubtful nod, one eyebrow raised in disbelief. "I'm not an idiot, Mrs. Queen."

She flinched at the name. "I don't think you are," she agreed. "And it's Felicity, or Ms. Smoak if you insist on formality. Not Mrs. Queen. Not anymore." Much as she tried, the hints of hurt leaked through to her voice.

He gave her a sympathetic expression and said nothing, merely nodding when she requested they return to the mansion again.

"I served three tours in Afghanistan," Diggle said as they began driving back to the Queen family estate. "Know what I learned there?"

"That war is rough?" Felicity shrugged.

"No," Diggle denied. "War's the easy part. Coming home? _That's_ the hard part. Coming back to find that nothing's changed, but you're a different person. All of your friends and family want you to be someone you're not anymore, they all want you to talk about your trip to hell, tell them what it was like when it isn't possible to put that sort of horror into words. You wanna know what I think, Ms. Smoak?"

"Alright," Felicity murmured, feeling unsettled by how well he managed to put her feelings into words. "Shoot."

"I think that that island changed you, but I don't think you're as messed up after five years of hell as you have any right to be," he stated. "You could've run right into his arms the moment he came in. Hell, you could have left that woman for dead, saved yourself. A lot of people would have.

But you didn't. And now you're sitting here - together and strong. You're letting him take care of her instead of you. That makes you a fighter in my book."

Felicity swallowed, feeling shaken by his words. "I've never needed anybody except myself," she finally croaked out. "I was looking after myself long before I ever laid eyes on Oliver Queen, and long after."

"Just 'cause you don't need it, doesn't mean you don't want it," he pointed out, unknowingly echoing her earlier thoughts. "So the fact that you can push that want aside is proof of what I think. You're gonna be just fine, Felicity."

She gave a faint smile. "Thanks, Dig," she said, feeling a jolt of affection for the man.

* * *

Later, she told Dig that she was going for a run around the estate, that she needed some air and space to clear her head. He clearly appreciated her informing him for once, agreeing but warning her not to leave the grounds and saying that he'd come looking if she was gone more than two hours, which she negotiated up to three.

Three hours was more than enough. Felicity changed into her vigilante outfit, which she had hidden in a duffel in the trunk of her car, and then made her way straight to Somers, where she terrorized him into making a confession, recording it and leaving it for Lance and Laurel to use. She trusted Lance, and even if she didn't personally like Laurel, she knew that the woman would do everything possible for her clients.

Then she returned to the mansion, half an hour before Digg's curfew, and went to Will's room, finding him still awake and reading another chapter of Artemis Fowl. The sight of him reading it himself, despite being only five, made pride swell inside her. According to Oliver, the school already wanted to bump him up to first grade at least. He had inherited her genius-level intellect, and she glowed with pride in him.

He jumped and gave her a guilty smile when she caught him.

"Isn't it past your bedtime, mister?" she asked teasingly.

He shrugged bashfully.

"Come on, Baby," she climbed into bed beside him. "I'll read to you until you fall asleep, okay?"

"Yeah," William agreed, smiling up at her. Her heart ached to see the missing tooth and know it was yet another part of his life that she had missed.

"I love you, William," she told him, brushing his fringe out of his eyes.

"I love you too, Mommy," he responded, the words coming from him so easily it made her breath catch.

Whatever had happened between her and Oliver, Felicity could never regret a second with him, because she had gotten her son out of it, and William was the best part of her world.


	3. Lone Sniper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity hits a snag while going after the next man on the List

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow. Changed the title of the story from 'Purple Arrow' to 'Artemis', because I think it sounds better. For anyone who's unaware, Artemis is the Greek Goddess of Hunting, one of the Twin Archers. I figure it's a good codename for a female archer.**

**Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed this story, I'm delighted you're all liking it so much already. To address the more common statements, Dig and Felicity are my brotp, and they're gonna be close in this. Meanwhile with Oliver, in his defence, he thought that Felicity was dead, and it was around three years before he started trying to accept that move on. This will be Olicity, but it's gonna be slowburn. Oliver has to accept that he needs to let Laurel go, while Felicity needs to come to terms with everything that happened on the island, and realize that she deserves happiness.**

**Felicity's loft is Thea's from S3, btw.**

**Luchnik is the name given to Felicity instead of Kapot. It means Archer in Russian.**

**Now, on with the next update! Read, enjoy and review!**

**Chapter Three**

**Lone Sniper**

"So, what do you think, Baby?" Felicity asked, gesturing around at the loft apartment. "Thea?"

"I think it's terrible," the heiress declared immediately. "Way too small, and the colours are very bland. You should stay at the mansion."

Felicity smirked in amusement at the girl, glancing at William, who was studying the loft with excessive solemnity. "What about you, kiddo? Do you think this place is terrible too?"

"Nnnooo," he dragged out. "But I don't understand why you can't live with Daddy and me?"

Felicity felt her smile grow strained as she crouched to be level with him. "Because Daddy and I aren't together anymore," she reminded him. "He's marrying Laurel, remember? A person can't be married two people at the same time. The government doesn't allow it."

"I don't like Laurel," William declared. "She treats me like a baby. I'm not stupid."

"No, you're not," Felicity agreed proudly, ruffling his hair. Her son had inherited her genius-level intellect, as well as her love for technology and everything related to it. "But Daddy likes her, so there's nothing to be done, I'm afraid."

"Ollie's an idiot," Thea grumbled. "And I still think you should stay at the mansion."

Felicity sighed and stood up again, reaching out to clasp the younger girl's hand. "Thea, I can't impose on your family forever."

"You _are_ family!" Thea exclaimed. "It's not an imposition for you to stay. Even if you and Ollie aren't together anymore, which I personally don't agree with, given the reason for your separation was you going missing and you're home now, you're still William's mom. You'll _always_ be family."

"Thank you," Felicity smiled softly. "But I still need to move out. For my own sake. I feel terribly guilty, relying so much on you guys. And," she glanced at Will, who had gone to examine the balcony, and lowered her voice. "I find it hard to see the two of them together. I need space."

Thea sighed in resignation, shoulders slumping. "It's a nice apartment," she offered. "I can go shopping with you for paint and furniture, if you like."

"That'd be lovely," Felicity agreed with a smile. She turned to Dig, who was leaning against a pillar with his arms crossed. "Security wise, what do you think, Dig?"

The bodyguard gave a nod, pushing himself off the column and coming over. "It's good," he confirmed. "Good neighbourhood, doorman who requires verbal permission from a resident to let a visitor in, CCTV, it's the second-to-top floor, so the likelihood of somebody breaking in is low, electronic gate, underground parking that needs a code to be accessed. You'd be hard-pressed to find someplace safer than this."

"I thought so," Felicity approved his words with a nod. She had deliberately picked out places that had excellent security as the most important part. Anything else was negotiable, but her son was going to be living there at least part of the time, and she knew from personal experience how easy B&E could be. "Will? You like it?"

"If you can't live with Daddy and me, then I guess that here's okay," her son answered, coming over to wrap his arms around her hips as she rested a hand on his back, rubbing it gently. "I get to decide what my room looks like though, 'kay?"

"Okay," Felicity agreed easily. "I'll go sign the lease now, then. Afterwards, I better get you back to your Dad, sweetheart."

William pouted, but he gave in, allowing himself to be transferred into his aunt's embrace as Felicity hurried to find the real estate agent and scribble her signature on the forms. She felt a red blush stain her cheeks at how long it took her to write, and how terrible her words were. They looked like a kindergarten's attempt at writing their name for the first time. She hadn't used a pen in years. Not since ARGUS, and only rarely then.

Give her a bow and arrow any day.

* * *

That night, Felicity headed to confront James Holder, the next name she had chosen to cross off the List.

Not quite four weeks after her return and she now had a system. Every night she snuck out, did some work to set up her base (which was mostly-finished now. She had 'liberated' various equipment such as an x-ray machine from Starling City General and various companies to obtain whatever she needed. Otherwise she would have had to contact Waller, and she _loathed_ the thought of relying on Waller for a favour. Everything she got was either a spare or broken and she was repairing it, anyway.).

After that, she either patrolled the Glades for a few hours, intervening in various crimes, or went after the next name on her list. The person she went after was chosen by an algorithm she had created, allowing her to attack whomever was the biggest problem at the moment. She went after one or two people on the List per week, as while they were important, it seemed to her that the 'regular' non-1 criminals were just as bad, if not worse, and there were a lot more of them.

This quest to clean up Starling City was going to last for years, if she lived that long.

"James Holder!" she landed, catlike, in front of him and his pool. "You have failed this city!"

He let out a yell of surprise, dropping his phone.

"I have armed security inside!" he warned her.

She shrugged a shoulder indifferently. "Go ahead and call them," she suggested. "They're not exactly up to defending you right now. Funny how getting tied up and knocked out hampers your ability to do your job, right?"

"What do you want?"

"The courts say you don't owe your victims anything, but I disagree," Felicity replied. "I want you to-" Just then there was a familiar 'crack' of a gunshot. Automatically she dove for cover, spinning and returning fire wildly. She hissed when she felt a bullet graze her shoulder, and instantly decided to abort her mission. Holder was dead anyway.

She had assumed she would be fine, as the wound was a mild one, a mere graze. She only needed to give herself four stitches. Then she nearly fainted, and realized in a panic that the bullet was poisoned. She practically flung herself at her trunk, fumbling to get to her stash of herbs, the same ones that Yao Fei had used to help her and that had been her default medicine for years, shoving a handful in her mouth and taking a swig of water.

Feeling the effects of the poison dissolve, Felicity groaned and pushed herself away, heading for her computer set up and pressing a few keys to have it start searching for information on James Holder's murderer. Whomever had killed him clearly had a specific style of killing, meaning he was a professional, and Felicity needed to deal with him.

* * *

When she came down the stairs the next morning, she was shocked to see Thea, clearly hung-over and in the midst of an argument with Moira, Walter and Oliver.

"-grounded!" Moira was snapping. "Breaking into a dress shop, what in God's name were you thinking?"

Felicity's eyebrows shot to the top of her head. _Thea_ had been caught breaking and entering?

"When you're paying off the store owner, you should make sure to take a look at the merchandise," Thea shot back, eyes glinting angrily and arms crossed tightly.

"Go and get ready for school," Moira ordered shortly. Thea sneered at her, before she turned and stalked up the stairs, a hint of guilt flashing over her face as she passed Felicity.

Felicity descended the last few steps and met Oliver, who looked tired.

"What the hell was that?" she asked bluntly, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow.

He sighed heavily and ran a hand over his hair, looking drained. "Thea's been, _difficult_ , this past year," he explained. "She improved after you came back but she was arrested for breaking into a shop with some friends while drunk last night."

"Oh," Felicity murmured, guilt twisting her stomach into knots as she wondered if it was her moving out had triggered Thea's relapse.

"She's a teenager," Felicity said after a moment. "And one with money to burn. She can't be worse than you were at that age."

He grimaced. "She's supposed to be better than me," he replied lowly.

Felicity shrugged. "Everybody goes through phases like this," she reasoned. "Wisdom is for the old, 'cause they've made the mistakes that let them learn."

"Would you talk to her?" Oliver asked. "She's always adored you. She'll listen to you."

"I'd have spoken to her whether you asked or not," Felicity replied. "I love Thea. She's my sister in everything but blood."

Oliver nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Will says that you picked out an apartment," he stated. "You know you're welcome to stay here as long as you need?"

"As I have been repeatedly told," Felicity gave a rueful smile. "But I need my space. I don't like relying on others for charity."

"You're family, it's not charity," he corrected her instantly.

"Uh-hum," Felicity gave a tight smile. "Right."

There was an awkward silence before Oliver spoke up again. "So, I hear that you're starting up that tech company."

"You know I've always wanted to open one," Felicity reminded him. "It's why I did that business course in college. I updated some old ideas, modernized them and Walter looked at them. QC is going to be my first investor, not to mention supplying me with a building for it, free of charge, so I guess that I should thank you for that."

It made her feel a bit guilty, but Walter insisted that they were family and family supported each other. He also said that if her ideas were half as good in real life as they were when she had presented them, then he'd get his investment money back, free of charge. And he had actually been the one to suggest the building she was using as her base of operations for her new company, seeing as it was sitting, abandoned but in reasonably good shape. It was the perfect excuse for her to be there, and the fact that she hadn't needed to suggest it herself made it even better.

"You'll be richer than me, soon enough," Oliver said lightly, affection in his eyes as he tilted his head, reaching out to tuck a loose curl behind her ear, his fingers brushing off her industrial piercing. "You're brilliant."

She stiffened. Did he really _have_ to say and do stuff like that? It stung, whenever he treated her like he still loved her, only to turn to Laurel once again. She cleared her throat, taking a step back.

"Well, I'm gonna go talk to Thea, and you should probably get to work, so..." She jerked her thumb over her shoulder, not for the first time relieved that the island had cured her of her foot-in-mouth disease. A single, tiny silver lining. But, she would take the constant verbal humiliation over the horrors she had gone through there a thousand times over.

"Right," disappointment flickered through his eyes before she went back upstairs, deciding to skip breakfast again, while he headed for the front door. She hadn't eaten for about two days now, but she was used to going days at a time without eating, and her stomach had yet to adjust to the food in America, which was a stark contrast to the fruit and meat she had survived on while still on Lian Yu, or the stews in Russia and noodle dishes Tatsu had shown her how to make.

* * *

"So, do you wanna talk about it?" Felicity asked gently as she sat beside Thea on the bed. The teen was dressed for school at least, even if her tie looked too loose for regulations, so that was a victory. Felicity would probably have preferred if Thea hadn't bothered with the tie at all, uniform or not. She was way too experienced with how to choke a person to death and being choked to be comfortable with anyone she loved wearing something around their necks.

Not that said experience had stopped her wearing the old, battered locket for the past five years. The pictures within, one side showing an old photograph of herself as a child with her mother and the other showing her, Oliver and William, the day of Will's birth, had been an anchor to life for the last half-decade. Whenever she felt the despair creeping up on her, and she started wondering why she even bothered to try anymore, all she had to do was click open the locket and remember her son and husband at home. Thoughts of them (when she allowed herself the luxury of pretending that Oliver might not have moved on, and that she could be good enough to be his wife again), had kept her trudging forward as scar after scar was added to her collection.

The dark-haired girl shrugged indifferently, but Felicity could tell when someone was putting on a false front. She did it all the time, after all.

"What's there to talk about?" Thea wondered. "You wanna give out to me too? Tell me about how I'm ruining my life and all that crap?"

"No," Felicity denied. "I'd be a hypocrite if I did. God knows that I was no saint as a teenager."

"I highly doubt that," Thea scoffed. "You've never broken a rule in your life."

Felicity nearly laughed at that. Oh, if only she knew. Instead she simply smirked. "I was a hacktivist when I a teenager," she informed her sister-in-law, who's jaw dropped.

"Seriously?" Thea straightened, looking eager. "Tell me more, please?"

"Well, in my first year of college, I got involved with a guy named Cooper Seldon," Felicity informed her calmly. At one point, it had hurt to even think of Cooper. But now that pain had faded, replaced by far worse tragedies. "He was part of this hacker group that focused on stealing money from the government and exposing fraud and so on."

"What happened?" Thea asked eagerly. "Did you meet Ollie and break up with Cooper for him?"

"No," Felicity shook her head. "Cooper was caught and arrested. He hung himself in prison. That was a few months before I met Oliver. After that I left the group. It wasn't worth it, and I was hurting too badly to stay."

"Oh," Thea's voice had gone small, and she played with the edge of her bedspread.

"Thea, just tell me why you're doing this, please?" Felicity stroked the girl's braid. "I got into hacking because I was pissed at the world. My dad for leaving, my mom for dying, the government for putting me in the system, the system for not caring. What are _you_ angry about?"

Thea shrugged. "I dunno."

Felicity sighed. "Alright, well answer this for me instead. Are you drinking and/or doing drugs?"

The expression Thea wore told her everything she needed to know. Felicity sighed and nodded. "Okay," she murmured. "Okay. Well, I know that there's no point in trying to stop you, so I want you to do something else for me instead."

"Alright," Thea agreed timidly.

"Promise me that you'll never drive with anything in your system, and that you won't do both together," Felicity pleaded.

"I promise," Thea swore. "I'm not stupid, I wouldn't-"

"I know that, I trust you," Felicity assured her. Truthfully, she'd have stopped Thea from the drugs at least if she could, but she knew that the more they tried to stop her, the more she would rebel. If she could keep her being as responsible as she could in those circumstances, Felicity had faith that the girl would eventually stop. Thea was clever, with a good heart. The trust Felicity was putting in her, to make the right choices, would eventually guilt her into making said choices. It was manipulative, but it would be better for Thea in the long run, so Felicity couldn't bring herself to regret the decision.

"I have to go and get some stuff sorted," Felicity told her apologetically. "I'm meeting the designer to arrange for how I want my loft laid out in an hour."

She had decided to hire a professional decorator to get her apartment sorted out for her, because she was too busy getting started on setting up her company, spending time with William, her night-time activities, and her current job as assistant head of the IT department at QC (part of the deal for the loan she had worked out with Walter, since she hadn't been willing to not do or give _anything_ in return for the loan and help and money they were supplying her with, family or not.).

"Okay, see you later then," Thea answered, subdued. She frowned suddenly. "Did you eat breakfast yet?"

Felicity felt her smile grow strained and she shrugged lightly. "Oh, I'm still getting used to things," she said lightly. "Cheerios are a bit different from the coconuts I had on the island."

"You don't have to lie, you know," Thea told her, studying Felicity with eyes that showed off her hidden intelligence. "I get that you aren't ready to talk about what happened there, but don't feel as if you have to lie either."

Felicity sighed, shoulders slumping. "I love you, Thea," she said after a moment, kissing the younger girl's cheek.

"Love you too," Thea replied softly.

With that, Felicity headed off. She had work to do and a killer to find.

* * *

She was at her new offices, the architect having just left after they had worked up a plan when her phone alerted her to the results of the tests she'd run on the bullet she had been shot with the night previous. From the results she discovered that she'd been poisoned by a curare-laced bullet, the signature weapon of a deadly and disturbingly-successful sniper-for-hire that went by the codename of Deadshot. From the records Interpol had on him, she thought he might be as good a shot as she was. Following the money trail led her to the Bratva, which was a stroke of luck.

She just needed to ditch her babysitter. She mixed a sedative made from other herbs she'd brought back (that reminded her that she needed to set up a space to cultivate them in her base. Some sort of miniature greenhouse) into a cup of coffee and brought it out to where he was sitting reading something on his phone in the front section of the building, holding one for herself.

"Thank you, I realize how bored you must be, hanging around while I'm getting these offices sorted out," she smiled at him.

"That's my job," he replied easily, accepting the cup and sipping it.

"Why did you go into private security?" she inquired, genuinely curious. "Isn't it a bit of a change, going from the army to guarding rich people?"

He smiled and shrugged. "It's a job and uses my talents. Lot of vets don't, don't get that. Knew a friend who was discharged 'fore me, an' 'e got me the job."

He yawned several times as he spoke, scrubbing his face and taking another gulp of coffee.

Felicity nodded, expression smooth. "Very true," she mused. "It's a real tragedy, that so many vets go overseas to fight for freedom, then come back and find themselves on the street." She meant it too. Those servicemen and women deserved better.

Good people suffer the most, Slade had once said, after Shado's death and before the Mirakuru had started effecting him.

Digg nodded, eyelids fluttering rapidly. "Yeeaahh," he trailed off, the heavy dose finally conquering his resistance. Felicity checked him over, satisfying herself that he was okay, and straightened.

"Sorry," she muttered to him, genuinely regretful. "But this is important. I'll take the blame with Oliver if needs be."

It was Oliver's fault for hiring a guard for her in the first place. Still, it'd be so much easier if it wasn't for the fact that she genuinely liked Diggle.

If she'd been looking for a partner, she would probably have picked him. He was reliable, good at fighting, intelligent with a range of skills that would be useful for her mission and she knew from her research on him that he had a range of contacts from all of the different alphabets that would be helpful as well, including in ARGUS.

But Felicity didn't want a partner. Her partners tended to die, or suffer some form of tragedy (most of the time she thought that Maseo would have preferred death. Akio's loss had shattered him and Tatsu both, as well as their marriage. She got it. If Will were killed...She didn't want to even imagine it.).

She didn't want that to happen to anyone else, so doing this alone was her only option.

After making sure he was okay, Felicity headed for her car. Judging by Digg's size and the dose that she'd given him, she should have at least four-to-five hours before he woke up.

Plenty of time to meet with the Bratva and get a few other vigilante-related tasks sorted out.

* * *

She arrived at the warehouse that the Starling City chapter of the Bratva worked out of, striding in without ceremony and following the sounds of welding to two men.

" _ **I'm looking for Alexi Leonov,"**_ she called in Russian.

The pair turned, glaring at her suspiciously.

" _ **There's no one here by that name,"**_ the older of the men claimed.

" _ **Not in your garage,"**_ Felicity agreed. _**"In the basement underneath."**_

The other man came striding towards her, pulling out a gun. Before he could do anything, Felicity grabbed his wrist and twisted it until she heard a violent crunching sound, making him collapse to his knees in pain. Expression blank, she yanked the weapon from his hand and removed the bullet chamber, tossing the pieces aside contemptuously. Then she turned back to the other man, maintaining a demeanour of indifference despite the queasy feeling within her stomach.

Her time away had dulled her to the horrors, turned her hands permanently crimson with blood, but she could _never_ be happy to hurt or kill anyone. Happy that someone was dead? Yes, seeing Kovar's corpse had given her a sense of satisfaction, but she felt no pleasure in doing the deed.

That fact relieved her. So long as she didn't enjoy the sins that she committed, a part of her was still human, even if she was long since damned to hell.

She pulled down the neck of her shirt, showing off the tattoo on her breast, along with a scar from Yao Fei, when he had shot her just after she finished burying Robert, before carrying her back to his hideout, where he had tended her wound and set about teaching her to survive.

" _ **I'm Bratva,"**_ she stated curtly.

" _ **You are a woman, and an American at that,"**_ the man pointed out, as if she wasn't well aware of both of those facts.

" _ **Have you never heard of L**_ _ **uchnik**_ _ **?"**_ Felicity retorted. She might have only been in Russia for a year, but she'd built up a reputation while there. Anatoli had vouched for her and gotten her into the Bratva, but a foreign woman seeking to be a member of the _brother_ hood needed to be thrice as ruthless as any man in the organization if they didn't want to end up on their knees for the men. Her time in Hong Kong and Russia had been when she really lost her soul.

His eyebrows went up, indicating that, yes, he had heard of the only woman and youngest person in history to become a captain. And, more importantly, the things she had done to gain those distinctions.

" _ **I want to see Alexi Leonov,"**_ she repeated, steel in her voice.

The man stepped forward, bowing to her. "Pleased to meet you, Luchnik," he smirked. "The Pakhan speaks highly of you. Tales of your exploits have reached many ears. I am honoured to meet the woman who took down Konstantin Kovar."

"And I you. I look forward to working with you." Felicity gave a cool half-smirk as she replied. She followed him down the steps into the basement, watching as he poured them each a shot.

"I apologize," Leonov told her. "We meant no disrespect to a captain. Particularly one as renowned as you." He paused, clearing his throat. "So... How can I be of assistance?"

"I'm in the market for a hired gun," Felicity informed him. "Someone that the organization's used before. His calling card is a 7.62 millimetre gun laced with curare."

"I know no man who uses such tools," Leonor replied.

"But you can find out who does," she said knowingly. She had long since learned how the dance with the Bratva went. Her most important thing was to act calm and in control, and be thrice as tough as any man in the mob.

"First, we will drink to each other's health," Leonov stated, passing her a shot of Russian vodka. "Then I will look into the identity of this man you seek. Ahh. I will also confirm that you are really Luchnik. Should this not be the case, I will send my mechanic here to find you and kill you and your family."

He smiled pleasantly at her as he made the threat, but Felicity didn't even blink, smiling back.

"Would you like a photo to show the Pakhan?" she inquired lightly.

* * *

"So, I checked out then?" Felicity asked knowingly, holding her phone to her ear and ensuring that Diggle was out of earshot.

She had managed to get back to the offices before Diggle woke up, with him none the wiser to her leaving. She felt bad that he had apologized, though she suspected he might be a bit suspicious, given his comment on never before falling asleep on duty and the look he had shot her when she had shrugged him off with a casual comment about him needing more sleep.

Then she had gotten to work on some stuff for QC, thankful her tech skills and connection to the CEO meant that she could work off-site without problems. Though her colleagues in the department clearly resented her at the least. No doubt they all believed she had only gotten her position due to her (soon-to-be former) marriage to the heir of the company.

"You did," Leonov confirmed. "His name is Floyd Lawton. I have address. Where he stayed last time he was in Starling City. But that is all. Let us hope he's a creature of habit. Go. 1700 Broadway, Papp Motel, room 52. You'll leave us out of this, yes? Assuming Mr. Lawton doesn't kill you first."

"I am a hard woman to kill," Felicity replied. "And of course. I would never jeopardize the organization." She wasn't even lying. The connection was way too valuable for that.

Then she hung up and set about getting ready to confront Mr. Lawton.

* * *

"Hey, Felicity," Oliver greeted her the next morning as she headed to the kitchen to get something to eat.

"Morning, Oliver," she murmured. "What are you doing here?"

"Came to check on Thea," Oliver explained. "Are you coming to the auction tonight?"

"Which auction?" Felicity blinked in confusion.

"The Unidac Industries one."

Felicity felt her heart drop like a stone to her stomach. "QC is bidding on UI?" she demanded sharply. "Uhm, aren't the competitors dropping like flies at the moment?"

All of them were targets save for Warren Patel, according to the laptop she'd taken from Lawton when she'd confronted him. She had gone after him with lethal force. A man like Deadshot, murdering hundreds for money, deserved no mercy. If law enforcement were unable to deal with him, then she would do it for them. Unfortunately, he had escaped and Felicity had spent the night working on retrieving the files off of his computer. Thankfully, she was improving quickly in her skills, returning to her old skill level. The perks of being a genius meant that she was able to catch up quickly.

Still, she had to admit that she was tired. Being a mother, working and setting up a business while fighting criminals every night was exhausting.

Still, she could manage. She would manage. And she would keep squashing the thought that she needed help. She could do this herself, without endangering anybody else.

"Yeah, but it's fine," Oliver assured her. "Security was upped and everything. Are you coming?"

"We'll see," Felicity replied non-committedly. She thought he seemed disappointed, but he gave a smile that she recognized as his fake one, and nodded.

"Raisa's agreed to watch Will for the night," he informed her.

Felicity smiled genuinely at that. "She's teaching him Russian," she replied. "He's been practicing with me."

"Yeah, Will mentioned that you're helping him," Oliver frowned. "When did you learn it? I thought you just spoke English, Spanish and French."

"I do, and I also speak Russian, Mandarin and Japanese, though I can't write the last two. Well, I can write a bit, not much," Felicity explained absently, not considering her words. She was too focused on trying to figure out what to do about Deadshot and the auction. No way could she cover all of the targets herself.

"Since when?" Oliver frowned. "I know you learned Spanish in middle school and French in high school, but where'd you learn the others?"

Felicity nearly replied, then realized that doing so would ruin her cover of being alone on Lian Yu for five years. She shrugged and smiled. "I'm a genius, remember," she reminded him, feeling a stab of guilt. The Gulongs and the Yamashiros all deserved better than being forgotten. But they, like so many others, would never be known for their heroism and losses. It was so wrong.

Oliver looked down at the ground for a moment before looking at her. "Why won't you talk about it?" he asked her softly. "To anyone. If not me, then _someone_."

"I only really spoke about my feelings to three people, Oliver," Felicity reminded him. "I can't do that with you or Tommy anymore, and-" she looked away, thinking of Sara, her laugh turning into a terrified scream as she was ripped away by the wave that broke through the wall into their shared room on the yacht, and later being thrown down the hole by Slade, killing her properly and finally when Felicity had only just gotten her back.

"I never meant to hurt you by being with Laurel, Felicity," Oliver whispered, stepping closer to her. "I thought you were dead."

Felicity shrugged tiredly. "I know that," she sighed. "You aren't the type of person to be cruel. I'll be at the auction. Excuse me, I better go and pick out a dress."

With that, she dodged around him and made her way down to the kitchen, returning her thoughts to planning out how she would deal with the mercenary.

Deadshot had fired his last bullet if Felicity had anything to say about it.

* * *

"Ah, you bitch!" Lance snarled as she pinned him, putting one knee in the centre of his back and gripping his wrists.

"Detective, quiet!" she snapped.

"You've got a pair on you, pulling this right outside the police station!" Lance spat bitterly.

Felicity ignored him, and the irrational sting of hurt she felt at the man who had always treated her like a third daughter speaking so harshly to her.

"Floyd Lawton's the one targeting the buyers interested in Unidac Industries," she informed him, thankful for the voice modulator that kept him from recognizing her voice. "Interpol calls him "Deadshot" because he never misses. You can look this up after I go."

"Yeah, and stop chasing you, I suppose?" Lance grumbled.

"Warren Patel hired Lawton," Felicity went on. "I can't be sure who they're targeting, it might be all the buyers, and I can't protect them in a space that big. I need your help."

"Yeah?" Lance chuckled. "Professional help."

"Lawton laces his bullets with curare," Felicity warned him. "Tell your men to wear Kevlar."

"I'll them to shoot you..." he threatened as she dropped the laptop (bare of any of her fingerprints, since she'd used gloves while working on it.) and then shot one of her rappelling arrows at a nearby roof, swinging away.

* * *

The good news was, she had stopped Deadshot. Bad news, Diggle had followed her and ended up getting shot and thus poisoned with curare. She had been forced to rush him back to her base and give him some of her herb mixture, before stitching up his wound.

Then, she resigned herself to telling him her secret, removed her wig and mask, and waited for him to wake up.

His expression was stunned as he forced himself into a seated position. Whatever he had thought she was doing when she disappeared, it wasn't this.


	4. (There Is No Client As Scary As) An Innocent Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity and Oliver both struggle while Felicity is forced to turn to Laurel for help saving a man's life

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow.**

**Two things relevant to this chapter. (1) the title is a quote from a book called 'The Lincoln Lawyer' (which I haven't actually read, I just saw the quote and realized it'd suit the title of the episode.**

**(2) I debated and finally decided to have Tommy paired with an OC. I couldn't think of a canon character to put with him, and he deserves way better than Laurel, who treated him like shit, so OC pairing it is!**

**Also, I won't be rewriting every episode. For example, Felicity isn't going to be caught on tape by the SCPD nor does Lance hate her, so I won't be doing 1x05. No William in this chapter, but Tommy's here! Hopefully he makes up for it.**

**Read, enjoy and review!**

**Chapter Four**

**(There Is No Client As Scary As) An Innocent Man**

Diggle's expression was stunned as he staggered into a seated position and took her in. Whatever he had thought she was doing when she disappeared, it wasn't this.

"Welcome back to the world," she told him calmly, feigning being in control and not frantic. Fake it 'til you make it was the motto she lived by. Along with, it's not paranoia if they're actually out to get you, and it can always, _always_ get worse. "Congratulations on being one of two people to survive getting shot by Deadshot."

"You're the vigilante," Diggle muttered in shock.

"I am," Felicity confirmed with a brisk nod. She studied him, crossing her arms and tilting her head to the side. "How're you feeling? Curare's no joke."

"I-what?"

"Curare, the bullet was laced with it," she explained briskly. "I got you back here in time, gave you some herbs that counteract the effects of almost all toxins, but you probably feel like shit right now."

"Did you go crazy on that island?" Diggle demanded, apparently still fixated on the revelation of her night-time activities, much to Felicity's disappointment. She'd sort of been hoping he'd get distracted, but apparently not.

"I probably have PTSD and a whole heap of other problems," she mused. "But I don't consider myself to be crazy. That's stigmatizing mental health, you know? Not very PC."

She was putting on a façade of calmness, but worry was twisting her stomach. She liked Diggle, and she had no clue how to convince him to keep quiet about this. She didn't want to threaten him. Hopefully, the fact that the only people she'd killed were a few rapists and Lawton would help her. Everyone else had been hospitalized at most. Felicity tried to kill as little as possible, but she had a thing about rapists. _That_ was personal to her. No rapist deserved to live.

Diggle scrambled off the table, swaying. She automatically reached out to help him, but gave into his obvious wish not be touched by her when he waved her off.

"Why are you doing this?" Diggle demanded.

Felicity wasn't certain what he meant. "Helping you?" she asked. "Or being a vigilante."

"Being a vigilante."

"Repaying a debt and redemption," Felicity explained. "Making the city safe for my son. I have the ability to help, so I should."

"So, which is it?" Dig pressed.

"All of the above," Felicity stated simply.

"Gimme a reason not to report you to the police right now," Dig demanded.

Felicity smirked slightly. "Because you don't want to," she stated, clarifying at his raised eyebrow. "The fact that you asked me for a reason, that you haven't run off to call 9-1-1 already, says that you don't want to report me. Not sure why, but I appreciate it."

Diggle stared at her, then turned and started walking away.

"You should stay with your sister-in-law, at least for the next 24 hours," Felicity called after him. "The curare's out of your system, but you lost at least half-a-pint of blood, possibly more, and the herbs could make you dizzy. I don't suppose you'd let me drive you?"

"I need to think."

"Diggle, one more thing!" Felicity called, stepping closer to him. He paused, but didn't turn.

"Your brother was killed by a curare-laced bullet," she stated.

"Hey, you leave Andy outta this!" her (possibly former) bodyguard snarled, spinning. He grabbed the rail to keep from falling at the wave of dizziness.

"That's Lawton's MO," Felicity went on softly. "I put an arrow in his eye earlier tonight. I just thought that you deserved to know."

"You killed Andy's murderer?" Dig's voice shook.

She nodded, giving him a sympathetic look. "Yeah."

He stared at her for a long moment, clearly overwhelmed, then turned and left.

Felicity sighed and rubbed her temples, before switching on her cell phone and seeing a slew of missed calls and messages from her (soon-to-be) ex-husband and the rest of the Queen-Steele family, as well as Detective Lance.

"Time to face the music, Smoak," she grumbled to herself. Just then, a thought occurred to her and she quickly went to her computer to hack into the CCTV cameras at the auction house, where she proceeded to scrub any footage that could lead to her being identified as Artemis (the new name she had been given by the media. Personally, Felicity thought it was ridiculous, but she had nothing better to call herself, so Artemis it was.). in particular, she erased the image of her grabbing the duffel with her things in the stairwell. Then she headed to her car, changed back into her dress in the backseat and drove back to the mansion.

* * *

"Where the fuck have you been?" Oliver demanded the moment she entered the foyer. He was over to her side in a few long strides, gripping her elbows and checking her over. "Are you alright? Were you hurt? Why the _hell_ didn't you answer our calls?"

"None of your business where I was," Felicity replied without a blink. "I'm fine and I wasn't hurt, just freaked out by the shooting. I didn't answer your calls because my phone died. Does that answer all of your questions?"

"It sure as hell is my business if you disappear in the middle of a shooting," Oliver pointed out tensely, releasing her, though he stayed pissed off. "Have you any idea how panicked I was? For all I knew you'd been shot!"

"I haven't had the chance to change my next-of-kin yet," Felicity replied, heels clicking against the floor as she headed past him towards the staircase. "So, if I was shot, I'm sure that you'd have been alerted."

"How can you be so cavalier about this?" Oliver snapped, storming after her. "You could have been killed! Don't you understand that I can't lose you again?"

_That_ made her freeze, anguish and fury warring for dominance in her breast. She spun to look at him. At one point, the movement would have made her topple over, with or without heels. Now, however, she kept her balance as deftly as a professional ballerina (and she had seen several performances in Russia with Anatoli, so she knew what she was talking about.).

"Get this through your thick head," she ordered, feeling tears sting her eyes and trembling slightly. " _I'm not yours to lose anymore_!"

"You're still my girl, Lissy," he insisted, looking as pained as she felt. "You'll _always_ be my girl."

"I stopped being your girl when you put a ring on Laurel's finger," she answered him flatly, before turning to stalk upstairs and check on Will, asleep in bed and oblivious to his parents' cold war, before going to her own room. Trying to distract herself from the tears she could no longer hold back, she came across the news report on Peter Declan.

Peter Declan whose murdered wife had been an employee of Jason Brodeur, someone who was on the List.

Well, she _had_ wanted a distraction. Might as well take another asshole out and save a life before her (possible) arrest, in the event that Diggle decided to turn her in after all.

* * *

"Hey there, Stranger," Tommy greeted him joyfully, clapping his shoulder. He quickly sobered. "I heard about the shooting at the auction. Everyone's alright, yeah?"

"We're all good," Oliver assured him before adding with a bitter hint to his tone. "But I didn't know that for about four hours."

"Huh?"

"Felicity," Oliver sighed, shoulders slumping as he accepted the beer his best friend passed him. "She disappeared during the shooting, and then didn't turn up until this morning. Didn't bother calling to say she was okay or anything either."

"Well," Tommy frowned. "Where'd she go?"

"I dunno," Oliver grumbled. "And she made it quite clear that I don't have the right to ask."

Never mind that he was still her husband, the father of her child. Never mind that they'd been friends for months before they'd gone on their first date. It was obvious that she would prefer to avoid him completely if she could.

Tommy frowned. "Things still difficult with the two of you?"

"That's an understatement," Oliver sighed, running a hand over his head. "I just-I want to help her, you know? But she just keeps pushing me away."

Tommy grimaced and set aside his own beer, leaning forward. The serious expression he wore would have been completely uncharacteristic of 2005!Tommy, but that was the year they'd met Felicity and Tommy had accidentally ended up in a pre-med course after signing up while drunk.

Nowadays, playboy Tommy Merlyn was long gone, and he was doing his residency, aiming to become a licensed general practitioner and run his mother's old clinic. Oliver was damn proud of how his best friend had turned out, and more than grateful to Felicity for encouraging him to give the course a proper try. Tommy had really grown into himself after he had started studying to become a doctor, and he was happy in a way he hadn't been when they were two trust fund babies living for the next thrill.

In hindsight, neither of them had _actually_ been happy, they'd just been so good at faking it they had even fooled themselves.

"Oliver, are you really surprised that she's uncomfortable?" Tommy asked gently. "I mean, you're still with Laurel, aren't you? You can't expect Felicity to accept you treating her like she's still your wife when you're getting ready to marry somebody else. It's not fair to her. Especially when she's still adjusting to being back. It hasn't been a full month yet. She just came back at the start of the month."

"She _is_ still my wife," Oliver grumbled, even though he understood where Tommy was coming from. Didn't mean he had to like it. "And honestly, I dunno what's going on with Laurel and I. We're always fighting. Even before Felicity came back, we were arguing more than anything else."

He sighed and took a swig of his beer, feeling miserable. He didn't know what to do. He was married to one woman who seemed to hate him now, and engaged to another who was constantly upset with him about something, and all he wanted was to keep the both of them happy. But that was impossible. Either Felicity or Laurel would be hurt, there was no third option.

"And now it's worse?"

"Yes," Oliver sighed. "But I can't just leave Felicity hanging!" he exclaimed, jumping to his feet and pacing. "I mean, back before, she only talked about deep stuff to me and, and Sara. Sometimes to you as well. But mainly Sara."

The two of them were silent for a moment, remembering the vibrant blonde who had been so vivacious and caring, full of mischief.

She had died decades too soon.

"And now, it's so obvious that she wasn't alone there, no matter what she says," Oliver continued, pressing forward. "The scars, the way she doesn't like being touched without warning and needs to keep everyone in her line of sight and stay near exits. Suddenly being able to speak Russian, Mandarin and Japanese of all things. God only knows what hell she went through there but she won't talk about it and it's gonna eat her up inside but she won't _speak_ to anyone!"

"Ollie," Tommy sighed.

"I can't lose her again Tommy," Oliver said miserably. "I just _can't_."

" _I'm not yours to lose anymore, Oliver!"_ she had bit out at him during their earlier argument. That fact hurt like hell. She had every right to resent him for giving up on her, for trying to move and with Laurel, his ex whom Felicity had always been insecure about. Learning of their engagement had probably confirmed all of her doubts about their relationship back then. He should never have given up hope of finding her. He should have pressed forward with the searches, the rewards for information, _something_. He had given up on her, and she, in turn, had given up on his love.

"Then you need to figure out a new balance," Tommy told him matter-of-factly. "A way to just be friends with her. William means that you're never gonna be able to cut each other out completely, but you can't have her and Laurel both. So either you break up with Laurel and go back to Lissy, or else you accept that you and Lissy need to create a different relationship, a platonic one."

Oliver flinched at the thought of being 'just friends' with Felicity. Not possible. He was 99.999% sure that he'd fallen in love with her at the first accidental-innuendo-filled babble, and never looked back. Never _wanted_ to look back. Even when his grief was at its worst, or when they were screaming and tearing each other apart in their vicious arguments, to the point that he thought they would break up, he had never regretted meeting and falling in love with her. If soulmates were real, then Felicity Smoak was his.

But still, there was Laurel. He really did love her, and he had promised to marry her.

' _You made Felicity a promise too'_ his conscious reminded him. _'_ _Multiple_ _ones, in fact. And you broke them all._ _Epically_ _.'_

" _Do you, Oliver Jonas Queen, take Felicity Megan Smoak to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, to love, honour, cherish and_ _protect_ _, as long as you both shall live?' 'I do.'_

' _I'm_ _never_ _gonna hurt you like your father did, Lissy.'_

The echoes of his promises to Felicity, his vows to keep her safe and shielded from the world that had already been so cruel to her in her youth, floated around his head. He had clearly failed that completely, given her current state.

Maybe that why she didn't love him anymore. Maybe that was the reason that she was pushing him away, refusing to try and fight for them. He had failed her, and the scars on her torso were permanent reminders of it.

"I can see what you think of Option Two," Tommy hummed. "So, what are you going to do?"

"I don't know," Oliver admitted, defeated. "I don't want to hurt Laurel. But Felicity-" He cut himself off, sighing heavily and scrubbing at his face. "I don't even know if she's still in love with me. She's so _different_. It's so hard to read her now."

At one point, Felicity had been an open book with bright pictures within. Now, however, he struggled to understand what she was thinking. He could tell if she was lying or putting on a façade, but he wasn't able to tell _what_ she was covering up. Not the way he used to. Five years ago, they had practically shared a telepathic connection. Yet another thing the wreck had stolen from them.

Tommy scoffed at him. "Of course she still loves you," he declared. "That girl adored you. You're the father of her kid."

"But she's so _distant_ ," Oliver sighed, circling back to the earlier topic. "I can't get her to open up."

She had always been like that. Appearing to be open while in fact hiding her true thoughts and emotions behind a thick wall that encircled her bruised and fragile heart. Under the façade of eternal happiness was a former foster child whose dad had walked out on her seventh birthday, and whose mom died less than a year later, leaving her to be shifted around the system with her things shoved in bin bags like trash. Whenever they argued, she would close herself off, bracing herself for him to leave her.

At one point, he'd been able to get through to her with kisses and jokes and promises not to ever willingly leave her whispered against her abdomen, but now his assurances were blatantly unwelcome. She had walled herself up like Fort Knox, and Oliver only had a plastic spoon to attack the barriers with.

"Well, it's like I said, isn't it? Things are different now," Tommy pointed out again. "Hey, man, gimme Lissy's number," he suggested. "I'll try and talk to her. I haven't had a chance to actually sit down and talk to her yet, seeing as I was away with Lys and then when I got back I didn't want to overwhelm her, not to mention she seems to be go-go-go all the time, setting up Smoak Technologies, hanging with Will and working at QC. I'll call and ask to meet her for a coffee, see how she's doing.

Meanwhile _you,_ my friend, need to make a decision. You can't have both of them, and it isn't fair to anyone to string them along. That was a Playboy!Ollie move, and that asshole is long gone, and he needs to stay that way, 'cause everyone likes this Ollie way more. You definitely won't help your case with Lissy if you end up backsliding."

Recalling how Felicity had slapped him for kissing Sara at a party while still with Laurel, back when they were more acquaintances who shared an attraction than anything else, Oliver nodded in agreement. Felicity's unhidden scorn for his old self had been the start of his attempts to grow up and be a better man, one she would trust and care for. One she would let care for her.

"Alright," Oliver sighed, knowing the dark-haired man was right. He input Felicity's number into the offered phone, before reluctantly deciding to leave. Felicity had Will for the night and would be dropping him off at school in the morning, but Oliver still needed to be up early to get to QC. With the newly-opened Applied Sciences division, things were hectic, and they would only get more so now, as QC had won the bidding war for Unidac Industries, despite the attack.

"Cheer up, man," Tommy urged him with a clap on the back. "Things are gonna work out. You know that."

"I hope so," Oliver muttered.

* * *

Going to Laurel Lance for help with saving Peter Declan's life wasn't something that Felicity wanted to do. But while she didn't personally like Laurel, she knew that the woman was a good lawyer, and that she was dedicated to her work at CNRI. It wouldn't be the first time Felicity had worked with people she disliked for the sake of the greater good. For example, Amanda Waller, or pretty much everyone in the Bratva save for Anatoli.

She cornered her on her way home, jumping down off a rooftop and, with a few movements that the brunette was too slow and too untrained to fend off(she had only basic self-defence capabilities, nothing that would _actually_ protect her, and it seemed to Felicity that she had more confidence in her skills than they deserved), pinned her against the wall.

"Laurel Lance?" she said in an inquiring tone, voice protected from recognition by the modulator.

"You're that vigilante," Laurel spat. "What the hell do you want?"

"I have no desire to hurt you, Laurel," Felicity informed her flatly. "I just happen to know that you have a reputation for fighting for lost causes."

"So? My dad's a cop, you know!"

"Again, I'm _not_ here to hurt you," Felicity repeated. "If I let you go, will you listen?"

"Fine," Laurel bit out, keeping her word when Felicity slowly released her.

"So?" Laurel bit out. "What do you want with me?"

"Peter Declan is gonna be executed in 48 hours," Felicity told her. "I have reason to believe that he's innocent. Declan's wife was going to blow the whistle on Jason Brodeur and Brodeur had her murdered because of it. There's proof of her being a whistle-blower here." She held out the USB with the evidence she had hacked from Brodeur's computers.

Laurel took it slowly, frowning suspiciously. "There are a thousand lawyers in Starling City. Why me?"

"Because," Felicity replied as she shot an arrow at the nearby rooftop. "I knew your sister. If you're half the person Sara was, then you'll do whatever it takes to save an innocent life."

She heard Laurel's sharp intake of breath as she swung away, feeling the usual pang in her heart from thinking of Sara.

She assured herself that the revelation wouldn't compromise her identity. Many people had known and loved the vibrant and kind Sara Lance, and Sara had had several friends serving in the military or going to the Police Academy. No way would Felicity, who had once cried because she accidentally stepped on a spider and once been so clumsy her husband hadn't wanted to leave her alone while she was pregnant least she fall and hurt herself or their baby, be considered as a viable possibility for the vigilante going around putting arrows in people.

* * *

A secret meeting on a rooftop with Laurel later revealed that the lawyer considered it likely that Declan was innocent, but she needed more evidence to stay his execution, as what she had wasn't enough. However, Felicity had to wait to go after Matt Istook due to a prior engagement. Instead, she found herself meeting Tommy Merlyn at a local café for lunch.

"Felicity Queen, you are still Smoakin' hot!" he greeted her with a wide grin and a hug that she was happy to return, pecking his cheek affectionately. "I see you took advantage of five years on an island to get tanned as hell."

She laughed, batting his arm. He was the first person not to tiptoe around her experience, and she appreciated it. Appreciated how normally he treated her. It felt like everyone was handling her with kid gloves, and it drove her insane. Yes, she was damaged beyond repair, she acknowledged and accepted that. That didn't mean she was going to break into pieces at the mention of Lian Yu. She wasn't delicate. Far from it, in fact.

"It's good to see you, Merlyn," she replied fondly, sitting down. "How's the residency going?"

"Good, good," Tommy hummed, bobbing his head. "And, uhm, I'm seeing someone. Have been for about six months now."

"My, my. Five years away and the impossible happens," Felicity said teasingly. "Is it truly possible that _Tommy Merlyn_ is in a committed relationship with someone? Tell me about this miracle girl."

"Well, if Ollie can do it, so can I," Tommy joked back. He grew more serious when her smile turned tight, and started describing his girlfriend instead. "Her name's Alyssa Jackson, she's a nurse about five years older than me. A widow. Her husband was a Marine who died in Afghanistan. She's got two kids, Lianne and Jason, and I'm head-over-heels for the lot of them. I really am, Smoaky."

"Tell me more," Felicity urged, squeezing his hand and listening to him describe Alyssa's dark hair and bright green eyes, her kindness and occasionally dark sense of humour, blue-eyed Jason's love of basketball and dark-haired Lia's passion for ballet. His adoration for the small family shone out of his eyes, making her beam in happiness for him. After his shitty childhood, with his mother's murder and Malcolm's abandonment, (not to mention any trauma caused by her and Maseo's staged kidnapping in Hong Kong back in 2010) he deserved to be happy, to have a person who saw past his careless demeanour to the young man who had rushed her to the hospital when she went into labour two weeks early and let her hold his hand tight enough to crack one of his fingers until Oliver finally arrived.

"You'll have to introduce us," Felicity commented as he ended a story about attending Lia's end of year school play, sounding like a proud father.

"Definitely," Tommy agreed. Hesitantly, he went on. "Uhm, Will's already met them. He's a little younger than Jase, so they were quick friends after discovering a mutual love of the Nintendo DS."

Felicity felt her smile falter slightly, pained to know that she didn't know her son's friends. "Well then, I doubly want to meet them," she said instead of that.

Tommy studied her. He'd always been more perceptive than people realized. Same as Oliver and Thea. Maybe it was a trust fund baby thing, hiding your intelligence and pretending to be dumb for whatever reason.

"You know that he's still in love with you, don't you?" Tommy asked her. "Laurel-I'm not saying he doesn't love her, because he does, but you've always been it for him."

Felicity sighed, shoulders slumping as she pressed the bottom of her palm into her eye. "It's not that simple, Tommy."

"Why not?"

"Other than the fact that he's engaged to another woman?" she asked wryly, before sighing and glancing away, rubbing her forefinger and thumb together as if she were rubbing her bow. "He's in love with the Felicity of five years ago, and she's long gone. I'm a different person now. A worse one. I just- even if he wasn't with Laurel, I don't think we'd be good together. Not right now. I'm-I'm still trying to adjust, and William has to be my priority. I can't add romance drama to my plate. It's pretty full already."

"Well, for what it's worth?" Tommy replied. "I think you're a _better_ person than you were five years ago, not a worse one. But I get what you're saying, so I'll drop it. Why don't you tell me how things are going with this new company you're setting up?"

She gave him an appreciative smile, nodding. "Sure," she agreed. "I'm calling it Smoak Technologies, very original I know. I have a canary as the symbol."

"A canary?" Tommy repeated in confusion before realization dawned and he gained a pained look. "For Sara."

"Yeah," Felicity nodded. "We were-we wanted to start it up together, you know? That was the plan. She'd be the face of it and I'd be the inventor. I can't do that, but-God she loved that damn bird of hers, never mind that it drove everyone mad with its' squawking at two in the morning." She reached up to wipe away her tears impatiently, heart throbbing at the memories that were always invoked by the mere mention of Sara's name.

Tommy reached out to rub her shoulder in sympathy. "Felicity," he said seriously. "I know that I was Ollie's friend first, but that doesn't mean I amn't yours too, okay? Anytime you need me, I'm there. I promise."

"Thank you," she replied, eyes stinging. She forced a smile. "Want to hear more about my business or have I bored you to tears yet?"

"Oh, my eyes are still dry," he answered lightly.

Tommy had been a bit like an older brother to her, back when she and Oliver were together. A result of the pair of them bonding over their fathers abandoning them. She hadn't wanted to reach out after coming back, feeling as if she might end up putting him in the middle of her and Oliver's, thing. But God, it was good to see him again. Even if he was as blind to the truth of what she had become as everyone else in her life was.

* * *

Later that night she broke into Matt Istook's house and forced him, at arrow-point, to give her the file of evidence against Brodeur Camille Declan had given to him, which she then passed along to Laurel. The next night, after learning that it still wasn't enough to stop the execution, she tried to force Brodeur to confess, only to learn that Laurel and Declan were about to be attacked.

She rushed to save them, arriving in the middle of a full-blown prison riot. Thankful for her tranquilizer arrows, she escaped with only a few bad bruises and cracked ribs, as well as a sprained ankle and possible concussion. But all of that was nothing compared to what she had previously been through, and she escaped the swarming police easily. She watched from the roof as Quentin and Oliver arrived, rushing to check on Laurel.

As she watched Oliver cup his fiancée's face and kiss her deeply, the way he had done to her the time they had been reunited after she had been in a mild car accident shortly after they got together, she reminded herself that it was for the best. Oliver deserved somebody who wasn't broken, somebody whose hands weren't drenched in blood.

That wasn't her. Not anymore.

* * *

The next day, she received a text from Diggle, asking to meet her at her new loft apartment, which she had finally finished moving into. She had to admit, although she missed Thea's presence, as well as the others such as Moira, Walter and Raisa, it was a relief to be living alone, and no longer have to worry about sneaking out or hiding her eating problems and injuries.

"So, what can I do for you?" she asked as lightly as she could, the two of them sitting across from each other. Despite her light tone, the air was heavy and her expression serious.

"I want in," Diggle stated simply.

"In?" Felicity echoed, genuinely bemused. "On what?"

"On this crusade of yours," he clarified, stunning her silent. He took advantage to go on. "Just to be clear," Diggle said. "I'm not signing on to be a sidekick. But you're right. This city needs to be saved, and you're gonna do this with or without me."

"Yeah, I am," Felicity agreed slowly. "You really want to help?"

"With me, there'll be fewer casualties, including you," Diggle stated. "If you were just going around, killing everyone you targeted, this'd be a different conversation. But you're not, and I know the look of a soldier close to the edge, and someone needs to be there to steady you when you start to fall."

"Diggle, I'm not looking for anybody to save me," Felicity told him. "I'm no damsel in distress in need of a knight in shining armour."

"Oh, I know you're not," he assured her. "But you need someone just the same. You are fighting a war, Felicity, except you have no idea what war does to you, how it scrapes off little pieces of your soul. And you need someone to remind you of who you are. Seeing as I'm the only one who knows the truth, it's gotta be me."

"What makes you so certain that there's any soul left in me?" Felicity probed, genuinely curious.

"I've seen you with your son," Diggle replied. "Seen the pain you felt when the man you loved turned to another woman first. And, most importantly, you aren't some serial killer. You're giving people chances, you're killing as a last resort. I can see from the look in your eyes that you've done a lot of terrible things, I get that right now you feel as if there's nothing good left in you. I've been there. But you're wrong Felicity. And I promise, I'm gonna keep those pieces of you together, for your son's sake as well as your own."

Felicity swallowed, then nodded and stuck out her hand for a shake. "Well then," she cleared her throat. "If you're sure, I could use a hand. Want me to catch you up now, or do you wanna wait?"

"Might as well get started now," Dig smiled back at her.


	5. Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity and Dig start to adjust to being partners

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow. Thanks to everyone for your reviews, I'm so glad that you're enjoying this. Just to clarify, Olicity is definitely endgame, but it'll take a while before Felicity feels ready for a relationship. Same as it took Canon!Oliver a while to feel ready to be with Canon!Felicity. It will happen before or around the end of S1 though. Honestly, I feel a bit bad for poor Oliver. You guys are really pissed at him for not immediately breaking up with Laurel. In his defence, he feels bad about how he repeatedly hurt her when they were together, and he's reluctant to do so again, and Felicity hasn't exactly been acting as if she's open to a reconciliation between the two of them.**

**Also, Felicity didn't do any cage fighting while in Russia, because I doubt that a woman would've gotten away with that. She hunted down Kovar's properties and staked them out until she met with Anatoli. There's a brief mention of it below.**

**Finally, these updates won't come so fast in the future, but I'm still on holidays until Monday, so because I'm being cocooned due to my illness making me vulnerable to Covid-19, I have nothing to do but write meaning you reap the benefits! (I'm skipping the two Helena episodes, but she'll come up in the future.)**

**Read, enjoy and review!**

**Chapter Five**

**Consequences**

Their staffs clashed against one another, Felicity clearly the better of the two of them. Diggle had learned hand-to-hand and gun skills, as well as things like bomb disposal, not staff/sword fighting, unlike Felicity, who had learned to fight with knives, arrows and swords/staffs (it was very similar really. She preferred the staff, though, as it was less lethal.) Fortunately, it seemed that Dig's strong points were Felicity's weaker areas, even if 'weaker' meant that she was still far beyond a black belt in karate, so they were able to compensate for each other's deficiencies.

He'd been a great help the previous week with the gun runners, taking out a runner that Felicity had been too busy fending off another two to deal with, not to mention shadowing Mueller while she was attending Will's Little League game. Felicity was already seeing the benefits of having his help. Plus, she just plain liked Diggle and his take-no-shit attitude. She also liked beating his ass. Something about putting guys twice her size flat on the ground, even in a friendly spar, cheered the feminist part of her and made her feel more than a little smug.

"Anchor the rear hand, Diggle," she instructed him, after he only barely avoided her scraping her staff across his neck, a move that would've been lethal if she were using a sword as Slade and Tatsu had taught her.

"Okay," he scowled, as they restarted again.

"Variable acceleration," she explained after whacking him across the face, making him groan and rub his cheek. "Most fighters work at the same pace. You switch it up, you throw your opponent off his game." With that, she used her other staff to swipe his feet out from underneath him, sending him crashing to the floor and ending their spar.

"That was nice," Diggle huffed as he accepted her hand to help pull him back to his feet again. "Where'd you learn that?"

Felicity paused, tensing up slightly. "His name was Yao Fei," she offered after a moment. "He was the first person to teach me how to fight, to survive, on the island."

"He the one who gave you those scars?" Diggle pressed, studying her intently.

Felicity shrugged a shoulder, putting her sticks to the side and heading for her computers. "One of them," she answered shortly.

"And the others?" Felicity didn't respond, focused on inputting some data into the computer. "You know," Dig said when it became clear that she wasn't going to say anything else about it. "One of these days you're gonna be straight with me about what really happened on that island."

"Absolutely," Felicity agreed in a voice of faux cheer. "But not today."

"Still," Diggle went on, joining her. "You've got some pretty sweet moves."

Felicity nodded, smirking slightly. "Yep," she confirmed. "And it seems that the next person I'm gonna be using them on is him." She gestured at the profile her programs had created. "Scott Morgan runs water and power in the Glades. Jacks up the prices when people can't pay, shuts them down even in the dead of winter. According to this, at least thirteen people have died of pneumonia because they couldn't afford heating due to it in the past six years. Maybe more. That's not mentioning the ones who got sick but survived."

"But the danger of that is still at least a month away though," Dig pointed out, pulling up a news article. "Look at this. These guys started at Keystone 3 years ago, then began moving west, hitting banks along the way. This morning they hit Starling City Trust. Shot an off-duty cop. He's in a coma and the doctors are saying it's a coin toss whether he'll make it."

Felicity read through the articles quickly, chewing her lip and arms crossed. "Okay," she agreed, pushing her glasses up her nose. "This is definitely more of a priority. This cop seems to have been the first person they actually hurt, which means that they're escalating. If they're starting to get violent than they definitely have to be stopped before they end up shooting a civilian dead, instead of critically injuring a cop. But it has to wait until Monday night, because I have Will for the weekend."

Diggle smiled in satisfaction at her. "I can make some calls, do a bit of research over the weekend."

Felicity nodded and stood. "Sounds like a plan," she agreed. "As does my ducking into the shower and getting changed so I don't greet my son and hus-Oliver, in a pair of sweaty yoga pants and sports bra."

"Something tells me Oliver wouldn't exactly be disappointed by the sight," Dig called after her as she headed for the small bathroom. She flipped him the bird as she ducked inside. The fact that there was a fully-equipped bathroom was one of the many advantages to the building, as well as its' location (midway between the Glades and the 'good' area of town, meaning it was midway between the places she worked at most often while not at risk of being robbed like a place in the Glades would be.) and another reason as to why she had chosen it.

It was a bit of a shame that there was no hot water, but as long as it was a freezing stream or lake that she had to be in and out of within seconds to avoid pneumonia, Felicity was happy.

* * *

"Ready to go to Mom's, kiddo?" Oliver asked, ruffling William's hair. The young boy nodded eagerly, shifting his Iron Man backpack higher on his shoulder.

"Uh-huh," he confirmed. "Let's go! I'm spending the whole weekend with her, and she says that we're gonna build a computer!"

Oliver whistled. "Impressive," he complimented his son. He had no doubt that it would be a working one. Felicity had built her first working computer solo at a mere seven-years-old, and Will had inherited her intellect, thank God. His son would hopefully be smart enough to never repeat Oliver's own teenage mistakes.

Laurel came hurrying into the sitting room, pulling on her coat and grabbing her purse.

"Everything okay?" Oliver asked her, guilt twisting his stomach at the sight of her.

He'd made up his mind, he knew what he had to do for everyone's sake, but he still hated that he would hurt her. He'd hurt her so much, and so often, when they were in high school and up until he met Felicity, and she had deserved better. He had sworn when they got back together this last time that he would do better this time, but that had been before he knew that Felicity really was alive. Felicity changed everything for him. She had always had the ability to do that.

"No," Laurel huffed. "Joanna just called. CNRI's main donor, Stagg Industries, has pulled out. I need to get to the office and strategize with the others about what we're gonna do."

"Alright," Oliver murmured. "I, uh, I need to talk to you about something."

"It'll have to wait, Ollie," she snapped. "This is more important."

"I know," he sighed. "I didn't mean right now, I was just telling you that there's something we need to talk about."

She sniffed, slinging her bag strap over her left shoulder. "Well, we can talk later or something. I need to get to CNRI and you need to drop Will off with Felicity." She grimaced slightly at the latter part of her statement, and Oliver bit the inside of his mouth to keep from snapping at her. He didn't like to argue with anyone in front of Will, and she wasn't wrong that they both needed to get going.

"See you later," he forced a smile at her. He couldn't find it in himself to kiss her back with she gave him a quick, chaste kiss on the lips before hurrying off. It made him feel as if he were

"Daddy, can we go now?" Will asked impatiently, clearly having reached the limits of his patience. He worshipped his mother (and who could blame him for it? It was _Felicity_.), and the novelty of having her back had yet to disappear behind annoyance at her enforcing his bedtime and eating his vegetables.

"Sure thing, kiddo," Oliver agreed, snapping out of his thoughts at his son's plea and herding the almost six-year-old out of the apartment towards the elevator leading to the parking lot.

/

When Felicity let them into her loft, immediately drawing Will into a tight embrace that he happily returned, Oliver couldn't stop the smile that formed on his face at the sight of her in Star Wars pajamas, though he felt a pang as well. The sight of the stormtrooper helmet and the blue bubble letters spelling out 'I love a man in uniform' were classic Felicity. But the long sleeves and full-length bottoms with her feet covered by a pair of black socks were not.

Five years ago, when she was going to bed she would wear shorts and often a tank top with some sort of nerdy slogan on it, or else an oversized sweatshirt that was usually stolen from him on the rare occasions that she felt cold at night. It pained him to see yet more evidence of what she had been through, wearing a long-sleeved shirt and leggings instead. All of her clothing choices since she had come back from the island seemed to picked to be (a) muted colours in contrast to the bright, multi-coloured outfits she had worn when they were together, and (b) conservative. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen her bare arms or legs.

"Cute pj's," he nodded at her as Will ran off to put his backpack away in his bedroom.

She shrugged self-consciously. He hated the distance between them, that she could no longer relax in his presence. Was she able to relax in _anyone's_ presence nowadays?

"So, how're you?" she asked, leaning against a pillar with crossed arms and a raised eyebrow. "What's bothering you?"

"What makes you think that something's bothering me?" he retorted, avoiding her gaze.

She reached out and traced a line on his forehead. " _This_ does," she murmured lowly. "You always got that look on your face when you felt stressed about something." Seeming to suddenly realize that the intimacy of her action, she hastily pulled away from him again and cleared her throat. "So, what is it?"

"I, uhm, I made a decision," Oliver explained. He stared at her intently, trying to convey his unspoken message. _'I choose you.'_ "And, uhm, it's going to hurt somebody that I care about, but I-it's the right decision for me. For everyone, really. In the long-term, if not the short one."

"Well then," Felicity gave a soft smile, tinged with a wary edge. "Sounds like you have nothing to worry about. Things'll work out with this person that you're hurting. I know that you're trying to do what's best. You would never hurt somebody if you could avoid it."

"You've always had such faith in me," he murmured, unable to keep himself from grasping her hand lightly in his own and running his thumb over her hand. He was pleased when she didn't pull away, her breath hitching. She even leaned a bit forward, closer to him.

"That's because you never had faith in yourself," she responded, as their gazes locked. "And I could see from the start that you had the potential to do things that would help save the world, if you would only try."

Oliver swallowed, the air between them feeling heavy and charged. It was a familiar feeling, but one that he hadn't felt since before he'd kissed her goodbye at the dock and watched as she boarded that goddamned yacht with his father and Sara. But before he could give into the urge to draw her against him and press their lips together, Will came bounding back into the room, the dark eyes he had inherited from Felicity's grandmother shining with excitement.

"Mommy, can we get started on building our computer now?" he asked eagerly.

Oliver felt a jab of disappointment when the moment was ruined, his (sort-of) wife hastily clearing her throat and stepping away from him again to put some distance between them as she smiled at their son. Eyes going between the two of them, Oliver absently mused, not for the first time, that their son had inherited his mother's smile. One that (when it was genuine and not one of the feigned ones she had been putting on since her return, unless with William) could shine brighter than the sun itself.

"Sure thing," she agreed. "Just say goodbye to your dad, and then I'll see him out. You can go and clear off the kitchen table for it while I'm doing that."

Will beamed in delight, rushing over to fling his arms around Oliver's waist. "Bye, Daddy!" he exclaimed. "Love you! See you on Monday, okay?"

"Will do," Oliver agreed, ruffling his son's hair after releasing him from the embrace. Felicity walked him to the door as William ran off to start getting the table ready.

"So," Felicity said, pausing at the doorway. "I'll drop him off at school in the morning, and you'll get him from Little League practice?"

"Yeah," Oliver confirmed. He had a strict 9-5 schedule. For years, he'd been William's sole parent, and while he had Thea, Tommy, his mother and stepfather and Raisa all to help raise his boy (and it was only recently that he realized that he had barely ever left the young boy alone in Laurel's care unless one of them or her father were there too, further proof that they weren't working out), Oliver had been determined to be there for his son in a way that his parents hadn't been for him and Thea. In a way that Donna Smoak had been too busy working three jobs to keep a roof over her daughter's head to be for Felicity, and that Noah Kuttler simply hadn't cared to be.

He and Felicity had both made promises on what type of parents they would be, and Oliver had sworn to her gravestone that he wouldn't break that promise to their son. He wouldn't fail his promises to William the way he had failed his ones to her.

Now that Felicity was back and they were sharing custody of their son, he was able to work longer hours at times, but he was determined not to let William believe that his mom coming back meant that he had to lose his dad instead.

"Alright then," Felicity murmured, stepping back and gripping the door in preparation of closing it. "I'll, uhm, see you at work I guess."

"Right," Oliver echoed. "Enjoy your weekend."

"I'm with my son," she answered simply, for once not hiding her true thoughts from him, showing her genuine sincerity. "How could I not?"

* * *

_**Queen's Gambit, North China Sea: 2007** _

" _So, what's bothering you?" Sara raised a knowing eyebrow, holding a glass of champagne by her fingertips and sprawled on the bed in a silky nightdress and dressing gown._

_Felicity used the hand that wasn't holding her own glass of Coke (she was still breastfeeding and thus unable to drink alcohol, unfortunately. Not to mention she was still three years away from turning 21 and thus being legally allowed alcohol. Though who actually waited until they were of age to drink, really?) to tuck a curl behind her ear, grimacing._

" _Sorry, I just feel so guilty," she apologized to her best friend. "I miss my boys, and I feel so awful. What kind of mother abandons her five-month-old son?"_

_Sara scoffed and batted her arm lightly. "You did_ _**not** _ _abandon Will," she insisted. "You went on a work trip. This conference is important. As the designer of the whole thing, you are best placed to explain it to these investors, and you'll be home in less than two weeks. Hell, if you really want you can just take a plane back to Starling once the presentation is over instead of the Gambit. You know that."_

" _Yeah, but I still feel bad leaving him," Felicity sighed. She was about to set aside her drink, but the rocking of the boat from the storm stopped her. She glanced warily out of the window, grimacing at the violent storm raging outside and deeply regretting taking a look at statistics for boat wrecks. She reminded herself of all of the safety measures taken to protect the yacht's passengers, as well as the fact that the crew were all highly trained and experienced, but it didn't ease the feeling of dread that she'd been feeling since she had stepped foot on board the yacht._

_In later years, she would curse herself for not paying attention to that feeling when it would have made a difference._

_There was a knock on the door, and her father-in-law peered inside on receiving permission, looking irritated._

" _Robert?" Felicity asked with a frown at his unhappy expression, uncharacteristic of her jovial father-in-law. "Is everything okay?"_

" _Everything's fine, Felicity," he assured her. "But the storm's quite bad, so the captain's decided to turn back, head for the nearest port. Don't worry, it's just a precaution. We'll have to take a jet the rest of the way, I guess. Hopefully the meeting isn't delayed. We've still got two days, anyway."_

" _We'll make it, I'm sure," Felicity promised him. "Better safe than sorry, right?"_

" _Very true," he nodded, flashing them the smile he shared with his son. "Alright, well I just wanted to give you girls an update. I'll leave you to your girl talk now."_

" _Thanks, Robert."_

" _Thank you, Mr. Queen."_

" _Don't worry, and Sara, it's Robert. You and Felicity are so close, you're practically family. No need for formalities with me."_

_Sara smiled politely and nodded as he turned and left, shutting the door softly behind him._

_Then they returned to their chat, occasionally casting wary looks at in the direction of the loud cracks of lightning._

" _So, what else is bothering you?" Sara pressed. "'Cause I_ _ **know**_ _you girl. Missing Will and your handsome hubby isn't the only thing that's weighing on you."_

_Felicity's eyes darted to the side, and her friend sighed in annoyed understanding. "What did Laurel do_ _**this** _ _time?"_

_Felicity chewed her bottom lip. "I don't want to put you in the middle of it," she said hesitantly. In the back of her mind, she absently noticed that the lightning was getting closer, but didn't focus on it, too consumed with the conversation and her worries._

" _You're not," Sara insisted. "Laurel's my sister. I love her, and nothing will ever change that. That doesn't mean that I don't know what a bitch she can be, or that I can't disapprove of her actions. For the record, I don't approve of the way that she acts, and neither do Mom and Dad. You and Ollie are married. You've been together for almost two years now. She needs to let go of him."_

_Felicity sighed and began to speak, to tell Sara how Laurel had shown up 'coincidentally' at the café where she and Oliver were having lunch the week prior, and proceeded to blatantly ignore Felicity and Will's presence as she flirted with Oliver, leaning forward so much her breasts (barely covered by her low-cut top) had practically touched his nose._

_To his credit, Oliver clearly hadn't been interested in reciprocating. But he was no longer the rude, entitled playboy she had first met, and Oliver couldn't bring himself to be rude and send Laurel away. The whole thing had made Felicity feel insecure, despite his lack of response to Laurel's advances. She didn't doubt his fidelity, despite how he'd acted during his past relationships, but she did sometimes feel anxious that it was more their son that kept him bound to her than anything else._

_After all, why would someone like_ _**Oliver Queen** _ _want a nerdy blonde ex-foster kid with a penchant for word vomit when he could have Gorgeous Laurel, who could easily be a supermodel if she wasn't so determined to help people by being a lawyer? Even her own father hadn't cared enough to stick around, and if there was something so wrong with her that the sole man who was meant to love her unconditionally didn't care enough to stick around, why would Oliver?_

_Felicity genuinely didn't understand it, and a part of her worried he only stuck around because she had gotten pregnant so soon into their romantic relationship. It was one thing to be friends, another thing entirely to be married, and they were both still so young._

_What if one day, in a few years, he realized that he was sick of playing house with Felicity and Will, that he wanted his high school sweetheart back instead? So many gossip rags went on and on about how 'Lauriver' were destined for one another, and how 'Olicity' had come in and wrecked the perfect relationship (even though, when they'd met, Oliver and Laurel had been broken up for the millionth time). Even though she knew how full of bullshit those magazines were, it still poured water on the buds of her anxieties. Felicity had no doubt that, in a custody battle, she would lose out against the famous and connected Queen family. So, if she lost Oliver, she'd also lose Will. The very thought made her queasy._

_But as she opened her mouth to explain all of that to her closest friend, her words turned into a terrified scream as the wall suddenly burst in, destroyed by a violent wave._

_She slammed her head against something hard, feeling her glasses shatter from the impact and the glass dig into the side of her face. Through the blood and the dark, freezing water, she watched Sara, also screaming, be yanked away from her by the icy wave._

" _SARA!"_

* * *

"Not much here," Felicity mused, fingers dancing over the keys as quick as they fired arrows, if not quicker. "No social media for any of the family, no utility bills. Ah-hah! Oh, fuck." Her pleased expression at finding anything disappeared into a deep frown.

"What is it?" Dig asked as he leaned in to peer at the screen showing the Restons' online history.

"Derek Reston used to work at the Queen Industrial Steel Factory," Felicity sighed, her shoulders slumped. "You know, the place where Oliver and Tommy have their nightclub, Verdant?" The pair had started setting it up a few months before the Gambit had gone down, but it had only opened after she'd ended up on Lian Yu. Felicity had passed it a few times, but she'd never been inside. The pair still owned and visited it regularly, but Oliver was busy with QC and William, and Tommy had his residency and his own girlfriend, so the running of it had mostly been passed into the hands of the manager, some woman named Mandy something.

Diggle nodded. "Never been there, but I remember hearing about them opening it a few months after you disappeared, right after I was discharged from the Army."

Felicity nodded. "The factory was the biggest employer in the Glades until it was shut down in '07. You would have been on your last deployment back then. Oliver and I had a big argument about it at the time. It was a good business move for QC, but 1500 workers lost their jobs, and most of them lost their homes as well as a consequence."

Saying that her and Oliver had 'had a big argument' was an understatement. They'd screamed themselves hoarse at each other and Felicity had ended up taking Will and leaving for a week until he had come to where she was staying with Sara and begged her to come back. He'd promised he would figure out a way to re-insert some life into the Glades' economy to make up for his dad's decision. Verdant had been his way of doing so. Nobody could deny it wasn't a help, but not even close to enough.

"And Reston worked there?" Dig asked.

Felicity nodded as she elaborated. In the back of her mind, she mused that it was nice to have somebody to talk things out with. Talking to herself just wasn't the same, and made her worry about her sanity. She knew she had a lot of problems, PTSD for example, even if she was undiagnosed, but talking to herself was going a bit too far for her comfort.

"He was the factory foreman for fifteen years until Robert outsourced production to China. Looks like the finance guys even found a loophole in the union contract, so, they didn't have to pay severance packages and pensions to their employees. I didn't know about that part."

She frowned, clicking a few more keys slightly more harshly, shoulders rigid. "The Restons just got home after five years of being away," she stated after a minute, giving a bitter smirk at the parallel timeline. "Those factory guys used to hang out at a bar after work. I'm going down there. Hopefully Derek Reston wants to take a stroll down memory lane."

She had to offer him a chance, for her own sake as much as hers. She had objected to Robert's decision, but only to Oliver. She'd been too wary of angering her parents-in-law to tell the man her opinion of his decision. Maybe if she'd spoken to him directly, she could have persuaded him otherwise. It was probably a foolish 'what if', but it existed as a possibility. She needed employees for Smoak Tech. She had to make the offer, at least, even if he refused.

She shoved herself away from the desk and stood, ignoring the throbbing in her foot. She'd ended up with frostbite while in Russia, shortly before hooking up with Anatoli, and subsequently woken up in a Bratva building with a shady doctor who'd removed two of the toes on her left foot and Anatoli seated at her bedside with a worried expression. Despite her dislike of the Bratva, she owed Anatoli more than she could ever repay for his graciousness towards her. Of course, he said the same in reverse.

When it came to her foot, she managed. As far she was aware, nobody even knew. She never went barefoot anymore and she hadn't heard Doctor Lamb say anything about it to Moira at the hospital when explaining her injuries to her, but phantom pains were a lot harder to ignore than real pain. Still, she dealt. Tatsu's meditations were a blessing.

"And if by some miracle Reston's there?" Dig crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow at her.

"I'm gonna give him the chance to do the right thing," Felicity informed her partner, defiantly lifting her chin.

"Felicity, he already had his chance to do the right thing," Dig insisted. "It's called _not_ being a criminal."

"This is happening because of what my family did," Felicity insisted. Thea was right about that. Even with her marriage to Oliver in shambles, she still considered the Queens her family. She always would. They had their flaws, but they had embraced her with open arms, they loved and cared for her son in a way she couldn't while she was gone. They were more her family than her father had ever been.

"No," Dig shook his head. "You're worried about the wrong thing. It's _not_ your fault. The Restons aren't the victims here."

"My family stole from this city," Felicity argued back, refusing to give in, though she got where he was coming from. "They hurt the people in it. And I am hell-bent on making that right. For Derek Reston, that means giving him the chance to make it right." Then, she spun on her heel and stalked away, shoving a bug in her pocket as she snatched up her leather jacket and tugged it on.

She would give him a chance, but she wasn't the type of person to take risks, either.

Oliver had wanted to have this conversation several days ago, but the news of Stagg Industries pulling their funding for CNRI had caused him to decide to wait until after the fundraiser instead. He didn't want to make things worse for Laurel than they were already. He felt a bit bad doing it tonight and wrecking the excellent mood that she was in after the fundraiser had turned out so well, but he knew better than to put things off any longer. He had to do it now, before things could get any worse.

Earlier on at the fundraiser, he had caught sight of Felicity whispering to her bodyguard (whom she seemed to have finally stopped ditching) in the corner. But even as he had begun to walk over and say hi, the pair of them had hurried out without even saying goodbye to anybody, only twenty minutes in. Yet more of her strange, erratic behaviour that she refused to explain to him.

Oliver wondered, with more than a hint of jealousy, if Mister Diggle had become a confidant for his wife. At one point, it had been Oliver whom she turned to, or else Sara or even Tommy. Now, from her attitude over the past fortnight, Mister Diggle had taken that position instead. His only solace was that they didn't act like two people attracted to each other, at least.

He'd always been jealous when it came to Felicity. Any other girlfriend, even Laurel, he hadn't particularly cared if they flirted with other guys, even right in front of him (perhaps because he did way worse to them), but one of Felicity's college friends had once earned himself a black eye for kissing her cheek, and they'd only been on three dates at that point. Plus, the guy actually turned out to be gay, but Oliver hadn't known that at the time. He couldn't bare Felicity being with anyone else, and as much as she doubted that she was good enough for him, he failed to understand why she thought he was worth a second of her time.

"Ollie," Laurel appeared at his side with a bright smile. "I'm ready to go. You?"

"Yeah," he cleared his throat as they quickly said goodbye to Tommy and Alyssa, who shot him a supportive look. After walking Moira to her car (Thea had disappeared at some point, and Oliver could only hope she had gone out of boredom, not that she had gone off to get drunk again) they went to their own and drove back to their apartment.

Laurel froze when she flicked on the hall lights, and Oliver winced as he remembered that he'd left his remaining bags in the hall (the rest having been collected by some of the mansion's staff). Well, he wouldn't be putting off this conversation any longer then, it seemed.

"Ollie, what's this?" Laurel's expression and tone were coldly furious as she turned to glare at him, arms crossing over her chest.

He sighed, running a hand through his short hair. "You know what this is, Laurel," he said softly. "This isn't working out. We both know it. Better to call it quits now, not after the wedding."

"I can't believe this," she scoffed, anger twisting her face. "This is because of _her_ , isn't it? Everything was going fine until she came back! She stole you from me! Again!"

"First of all, things were not 'fine' between us until Felicity came back," Oliver retorted. "We've been arguing with each other for _months_ Laurel. Hell, we've been arguing since we got back together. It's just gotten worse these past months. We've been engaged since August, but we haven't even started planning the wedding. We don't work out together. We never have. Second of all, Felicity never stole me from anybody. I'm not a toy, I can't _be_ stolen. I have my own mind, and I made this decision myself, because it's the best one for all of us."

"You aren't seriously telling me that Felicity has nothing to do with this decision?" she raised a disdainful eyebrow at him with clear disbelief.

"No, I'm not saying that," Oliver denied. "She does, I admit that freely. I-Felicity's it for me, Laurel. She always has been. I can't be with someone else when she's in my life. It's not fair to anybody, and you deserve someone who loves you the way you deserve to be loved. Wholly and completely. As a first choice, not second."

Laurel glared bitterly at him, eyes shining with angry tears she refused to shed in his presence. "Who's to say that she'll take you back, anyway?" she spat venomously. "After all, she hasn't exactly been throwing herself at you since she came back."

Oliver shrugged. "She needs time," he replied. "And when she's had enough, I'll be there for her."

"You always come back to me, Ollie," Laurel warned as he picked up the bag and laptop case, the rest of his and Will's things having been collected by some staff already. "But next time, I won't take you back again."

"Good," he replied as he put his key to the apartment in the bowl where they kept them. "You deserve better than to spend your life waiting for me."

/

"How did it go?" his mother asked sympathetically as he took in his tired form.

He put down his things, going in for a hug. Even when he was closer to thirty than twenty, there was nothing quite as reassuring as his mother's embrace, as if Moira could fix all of his problems. She hadn't always been around when he was a child, but she had always made sure he and Thea knew that she would burn the world to the ground for them both.

"Better than I expected, given she didn't slap me or throw anything," he muttered as she stroked his back reassuringly.

"You did the right thing, Oliver," she assured him. "You know that."

"I do, but that doesn't mean I don't feel bad for hurting her."

Moira hummed understandingly, pulling away and retaining a light grip on his upper-arms. "Why don't the two of us go out and see that movie you wanted to watch in the cinema?" she suggested. "What's it called again?"

"Skyfall," Oliver grinned. "It's the newest James Bond. Are you sure that you wanna watch it?"

She smiled at him, squeezing his arms lightly. "Well, I can think of worse things than watching a movie with my son," she replied fondly. "We don't spend nearly enough time alone together anymore. I miss it."

"Me too," he agreed, leaning and kissing her cheek. "Sounds like a plan," he agreed. "I'll just run upstairs and check on William first."

Moira nodded and released him. "Let me get my coat and have the driver on duty bring the car around while you do that," she stated. Oliver gave a faint smile.

God, he loved his mother.

* * *

Felicity sighed, shoulders slumped, as she set her bow on the rack. The Royal Flush Gang/Reston family had been arrested and the security guard was unharmed. Those were the good parts. The bad part was that Derek Reston was dead. If she had only been quicker, if she had managed to take them down the first time she had confronted them as the vigilante...

"What went down wasn't your fault," Dig told her softly as he came up beside her, resting a hand on her shoulder.

"I didn't say it was," she responded evasively, not looking at him.

"You didn't have to," Diggle informed her. "The look on your face does enough. Felicity, it wasn't your fault. You gave Reston a chance. That was more than he deserved."

"I'm not so sure about that," she sighed, thinking of the desperate look he'd worn as he'd insisted that Kyle wasn't at fault for anything. God knew that she'd done a lot of terrible things when Waller had threatened her son and husband. Could she really blame the man for resorting to desperate measures to support his family? Especially when hers was the reason he'd been forced into that position in the first place.

"Well, listen, I'll tell you this much," Dig ordered, pressing her shoulder until she finally stopped starting sightlessly at the bow rack and turned to look at him instead. "You say going after the guys on that list is the way you honour your father-in-law? Well, if Robert Queen could have seen you this week, the way you cared about the people he had hurt, the way you stepped up to try to help them, I'd say that he'd be pretty damn honoured."

Felicity swallowed heavily and glanced at the ground as he went on, giving a soft grin.

"By the way, Stan Washington woke up. He's going to be fine."

Felicity looked back up wearing a small smile, genuinely pleased at the news. "Wonderful," she said softly. She had dipped into her and Oliver's shared savings account (that he had never closed or removed her from for whatever reason) to pay for the man's medical bills anonymously. She hesitated, then added. "Dig?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you," she murmured, hoping he read the undertones. She wasn't just thanking him for his help with the Restons, but with everything else too.

"That's what partners do," he replied simply, and she knew that he got it.


	6. Holidays

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new enemy appears, and for the first time in a long time Felicity confronts her own mortality

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow. Thanks to everyone sending me your reviews, I'm delighted this story is so popular. This is the last double update I expect, and I went back to the books today, so enjoy it. They won't come as quickly after this, I'm afraid.**

**Just to clarify: 'The Archer' is the police's name for Felicity, while the media calls her 'Artemis' and both also use 'The Vigilante' as well.**

**Read, enjoy and review!**

**Chapter Six**

**Holidays**

"So, how was Hanukkah?" John asked, stepping back to avoid the slash she aimed at his throat area and responding with a kick towards her leg that she jumped over.

"Good," she replied, doing a spin kick to disguise her slash at his bicep. "Weird, though. I haven't celebrated any holidays in years. I thought that Oliver would have raised him just Christian, if he bothered with religion at all. He's never been a strong believer in God."

It made her heart soften towards him, to know that Oliver had raised their son following both Jewish and Christian traditions to give William a link to her and her family. Felicity herself had lost most of her faith in God when the Queen's Gambit went down, but she still clung to it a bit. More due to memories of her mother and grandparents then any particular religious devotion, but all the same.

She and William had spent the full eight days of Hanukkah together, lighting the menorah that had Felicity's grandmother's family had fled Austria with right before Anschluss, eating latkes, sufganiyots and exchanging gifts. It had been wonderful. She hadn't felt so peaceful in years.

"Is he with the Queens for Christmas, then?" John inquired as she ducked a punch he aimed at her, slashing his arm lightly and making him hiss.

' _A man must be like a rock when he fights,'_ Shado had coached her. _'He fights with strength, force, unyielding discipline. A woman is different. A woman must be like water when she fights., using finesse, strategy and flexibility. She must flow around her opponent's strikes and return them with all the force of the ocean.'_

"Yeah," Felicity confirmed. An unspoken agreement had them ending the spar, separating and putting down their knives to pick up their drinks and rehydrate themselves.

She grimaced. "They're holding the usual party," she sighed.

"Are you going?"

"They asked me to," she replied hesitantly. "I just-I don't know. Probably, for Thea and Will."

John eyed her, a hint of knowing in his eyes. Thankfully, there were no comments about the fact that Oliver and Laurel were broken up now, or the fact that Felicity had found her mood considerably improved since hearing the news from Thea. Of course, if he had made any such comments, she'd have returned it with a few pointed questions on how Carly was doing.

"What about you?" she asked lightly. "What're you doing? Spending the day with Carly and AJ?"

"Christmas Day," John confirmed. "But Carly spends Christmas Eve with her parents and her sister's family. And I'll be bringing AJ to the mall later to see Santa."

Felicity nodded, giving a small smile. "Oliver and I are taking Will tomorrow," she admitted, running the tip of her finger around the edge of her bottle. "He's so excited."

"You never got to spend a holiday with him before, did you?" Dig asked sympathetically.

She confirmed his question with a tired nod, tugging on her ponytail. "Don't get me wrong, I'm so, _so_ glad to be back," she sighed. "More than I could ever possibly put into words. But-it's hard, you know? Times like this, I remember that I missed so much. I hate it."

Dig rested a hand on her shoulder comfortingly. "Unfortunately, there's nothing you can do but go forward," he told her. "Make new memories. Be there now, where you couldn't be before. You didn't _choose_ to stay away, Felicity. You were forced to be. Don't feel guilty about it. You can only work with what you have."

Felicity hummed, looking away. She couldn't meet his gaze, knowing that he wasn't exactly right. Sure, she had spent most of her time away on Lian Yu, but there was Hong Kong and Russia. She had chosen not to go back home after what she'd done to Shrieve, instead hiding out, travelling and grieving. Until Waller had dumped her back on that hellhole in order to deal with Reiter. Then, she could have gone home afterwards, but instead she had chosen to head to Russia and fulfil her promise to Taiana. She didn't _regret_ those decisions, so to speak. At neither point would it have been a good idea for her to be around her family. Not in the headspace she'd been in at the time. But she didn't _not_ regret them either.

Felicity didn't even make sense in her own head.

She began to speak, but the 'liberated' (a.k.a, stolen) police scanner buzzed to life and her attention was pricked by the use of 'Archer'.

She turned towards it, Dig also having taken note of the words used, and turned it up. They listened in bemused worry as the operator reported that Adam Hunt's daughter had found her father dead in his motel room, with three arrows in his chest.

"That wasn't you," Dig stated, as Felicity ducked behind the curtain she had put up after he'd joined her crusade to change into her outfit without a word.

"No, it wasn't," Felicity confirmed as she slung her quiver and bow across her back and hurried to the stairs. "But I'm gonna find out who it was, and stop them."

* * *

Quentin scowled at the body, deeply troubled.

"So, Sergeant?" Commissioner Brian Nudocerdo demanded as he stormed into the room. "Report!"

"Well, the daughter came over, used her key, found dad dead," Quentin explained, gesturing at the corpse. "Hat trick to the chest."

"The archer woman," Commissioner Nudocerdo stated.

"That's what I thought at first," Quentin said. "But these black arrows aren't consistent with her M.O. And neither is the fact that the Archer took Hunt for $40 million a few months ago. It doesn't make sense to kill him now, and it's not like her. She goes after a person, does her 'job', and puts the whole thing behind her so that she can focus on her next target. Everything in her profile agrees on that." Quentin sighed and crossed his arms, hating what he was about to say. "Something doesn't add up here. We're dealing with a copycat."

Neither the commissioner nor the detective spotted the dark-haired woman in a purple leather catsuit crouched outside the window, listening intently to the officer's assessment.

* * *

"Who would kill Adam Hunt with an arrow?" Dig wondered. "I mean, other than you?"

Felicity shrugged, twirling one of her own arrows in her fingers. "A setup, maybe," she mused.

"You mean someone looking to cover up killing Hunt by making it look like the work of the Archer?" Dig clarified.

"Possibly," Felicity hummed. "Guy was the type to make enemies. But I'll tell you this about this person. Whoever he was, he's _good_. The grouping on Hunt's chest was tight. The killer used a compound bow, I expect. The guy's a legitimate archer. And from the area he hit, I'd guess it was a male, few inches taller than me in heels." She scowled, setting down the arrow and beginning to pace the training area in a tight circle.

A part of it was worry. Another, smaller, part was injured pride. Yao Fei and Shado had taught her everything they knew of archery, and after their deaths Felicity had grown used to being the best at the sport. It stung her pride to think that someone out there was as good as her at her speciality, yet the grouping in Hunt's chest said that it was so.

"Someone like that would be particular about his choice of arrows," Dig pointed out, no doubt basing his assumption on Felicity's own fanatical care when it came to creating her arrows, handmaking each one of them herself, setting aside a night a week to work on them to ensure that she had enough stockpiled.

Felicity nodded in agreement with him. "We get an arrow, we get a bead on where he purchased them," she hummed.

"So what are you gonna do?" Diggle pressed.

Felicity gave him a mischievous smirk. "What anyone does when they need help," she stated with a devilish glint in her eye. "Call a cop."

/

She watched Sara's father receive the phone through the CCTV she had hacked into, and immediately dialled the phone.

The detective eyed it suspiciously for a minute before answering in a curt voice.

"Lance."

Felicity got straight down to business, deciding that it would better suit her persona if she skipped the small talk. "I didn't kill Adam Hunt," she declared, knowing that the voice modulator she had installed in the phone she had constructed for him would disguise her voice for her.

"You..." Lance straightened on the screen, realization flashing across his expression.

"You call me the Archer," Felicity confirmed his suspicions. "It's not a great nickname. Artemis, the media's name, is better. You told commissioner Nudocerdo that you might be dealing with a copycat, another archer, which makes me your best bet to take him down. You know that. But I need your help. I need one of the arrows from his murder."

"Yeah, we're pretty good at pulling down leads off evidence," Lance scoffed. "Thanks."

"Not like I am," Felicity informed him. "I can do things the police can't, go places they won't."

"Like I said," Lance said. "I don't even know who-"

"If this archer doesn't stop with Adam Hunt, we both have a problem," Felicity insisted. "My job is to protect this city, protect my family. Same as yours. Think about it. Then call me. Number's programmed in."

"What now?" Diggle asked after she hung up.

She shrugged. "Lance is reasonable," she replied. "He wants to protect the city. He'll call."

"I hope you're right," Dig sighed. "Something about this...I don't like it, Felicity. We're missing something."

She nodded, drumming her fingers on the desk. "We are," she agreed. "But we don't have enough information to know what it is."

/

"So your friend Lance gave you a Christmas present after all," Dig said the next morning, as Felicity examined the 'borrowed' evidence.

"Hmm," she replied distractedly. "Teflon-coated titanium blade serrated to split the bone," she muttered. "Shaft is some type of specialized polymer, which is stronger than a typical carbon fibre." She straightened, showing him the projectile. "This is a custom job."

"Not unexpected," Dig pointed out. "You make all of your arrows too."

"I do, but this is different," Felicity explained. "These are designed to kill, and to do it painfully."

They were silent, contemplating that for a long moment of grim silence before Diggle broke it.

"So Lance gave in after the other archer dropped another body?"

"Nelson Ravich," Felicity confirmed.

"Which is another name you crossed off Robert Queen's list," Dig said. "So is this guy trying to frame you or call you out?"

Felicity grimaced. Neither option was a pleasant one. "Either way," she stated. "I need to find him." She set about doing just that, searching out the delivery shipment and where it had been sent to. It was pure skill that allowed her to escape the bomb she found waiting for her.

* * *

Oliver stared thoughtfully at the news report, a crease in his brow.

"It is clear that this vigilante's cycle of violence has escalated," Commissioner Nudocerdo said into his microphone. "I'm asking our citizens to keep a close eye out and to report anything suspicious. A tip line has been set up, and a reward will be offered to anyone who aids the authorities in the capture of this madwoman."

"I don't think that it was her," Alyssa stated as she handed him a can of Coke. He had Will and he was driving, so Oliver wouldn't dare even have a half-a-can of beer. He would never take a risk with his son.

"Why not?" Tommy asked his girlfriend curiously, wrapping an arm around her waist and tugging her to his side. She smiled at him and kissed his cheek before answering.

"Because it's not her style," the widow explained. "She already went after Hunt and Ravich. And she doesn't go around killing indiscriminately. From what Laura tells me, the bodies she dropped were all either in self-defence or else it's rapists or human scum like that."

"What's your opinion of her?" Oliver asked curiously, flicking a piece of lint off of his trousers as his thoughts dwelled on a subconscious suspicion he wasn't ready to acknowledge yet.

Aly cocked her head to the side thoughtfully. "Honestly? I think she's necessary," the raven-haired woman admitted. "Starling has the worst crime rate in the country, with only Gotham rivalling us. The police corruption is even worse here than it is there.

But in the past two months since Artemis started her work, crime has dropped for the first time in five years. Criminals are starting to hesitate, because they're afraid she'll turn up and put an arrow in them before giving all of their money away.

Don't get me wrong, I don't approve of law-breaking. That leads to chaos and anarchy. But the police can't or won't do what needs to be done to protect the citizens of our city, and she is. I mean, if she were going around killing everyone she confronts, I wouldn't be able to support her actions. But she's not, so I have to admit, as a mother who lives just a few streets away from the Glades, I feel safer knowing that she's out there, protecting us."

"Well, you certainly make a convincing argument," Tommy acknowledged, kissing her cheek. "But the killing-"

"Tommy, hun," Aly interrupted. "I'm speaking as an ex-Marine medic who grew up in the Bronx here. The world isn't black-and-white. In the heat of a fight, when you're defending yourself or someone else, you don't pause to ensure that you don't kill your opponent so that you have the moral high ground. You put them down, and you make sure that they stay down. It's easy to disagree when your life has never been in danger before, but once you've been there? It's a whole other story. You can't judge a person until you've walked a mile in their shoes, babe."

Oliver found himself nodding alongside Tommy. His best friend was right that Alyssa was excellent at persuading people to side with her point of view, even if moments earlier you had been completely opposed to it. There was just something about the passion in her voice that let her convince you that the sky was green.

Before they could say anything more about the vigilante, Lia came storming in.

"Mommy!" the seven-year-old complained. "I can't find my advent calendar! I think that the boys took it to have my chocolate. They aren't allowed, Mommy, they have their own. That one's mine!"

"Jason!" Alyssa called. "Come here please!"

The two boys skidded into the room with innocent smiles on their cherubic faces.

"Jason Carter," Alyssa crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at her son. "Did you take your sister's advent calendar?"

"No?" it sounded more like a question, and a single look had him crumbling. "We were just looking, we didn't have any of it!"

"I should hope not," Alyssa said sharply. "And not just because it doesn't belong to you, and stealing is very wrong. But Lia's calendar has nuts in it, and Will can't have nuts."

Jase and Will's eyes widened in alarm at that. They had found out the hard way the first time they'd shared a dinner with the Jackson-Carter family that William had inherited his mother's nut allergy. Before that, William simply hadn't ever had any, as Oliver's habit of avoiding anything with nuts in it from his relationship with Felicity had never disappeared. It had been the most terrifying day of Oliver's life, even worse than when he'd been alerted to the Gambit's distress signal.

Thank God, he'd been with an experienced nurse who had an epi-pen for her daughter's allergy to cat fur, and a doctor-in-training, who'd been able to quickly react. But Will had still ended up in hospital for two days, and everyone had been more than a little traumatized by the whole thing.

"Put it back in Lia's room," Aly ordered the two five-year-olds. "And then apologize. Jase, you won't be having dessert tonight, and no TV either."

"You can skip TV tonight as well, William," Oliver added. "And you'll be saying sorry too. I'll be telling Mommy what happened, and you can bet that she'll be very disappointed in you."

Will's expression crumbled in guilt, and he sniffled slightly as he turned to Lia with a miserable expression to apologize. "Sorry, Lia," he mumbled, echoed by Jason.

"It's okay," she softened. "Seeing as you didn't eat it."

"We had better get going," Oliver added. "Say bye, Will. You guys are coming to the party, right?"

Christmas had always been Oliver's favourite part of the year, and he had always adored the party thrown by his family every year. Only once had they skipped it.

Christmas 2007 had been a mere five months after the Gambit went down in early July, and the family had been in pieces. Moira had been curled up in her bedroom, too distraught to even get dressed, and Thea had been twelve, a month from thirteen, uncertain and grieving. Oliver was ashamed to admit that he hadn't paid much attention to his sister in that period right after losing his father and wife in one fell swoop. He'd been on autopilot, caring for William mechanically and throwing money around, desperately searching for any hint of what had happened to his wife and father. He had refused to believe that they were dead, even punching the lawyer who had first brought up the suggestion that it was time to call off the searches and declare them all dead. The thought of celebrating the holidays, William's first, had destroyed him.

By the time December 2008 had rolled around, Oliver had been able to muster up enough enthusiasm to throw the party again, for his son's sake, but it hadn't been the same. He'd done Hanukkah with Will too, because he knew that it had been important to Felicity to have their son be connected to her roots. But it had taken so much effort to put on a brave face as he pretended he wasn't screaming and crying with grief inside at everything that Lissy was missing. Not to mention grief over Sara's first birthday since the wreck.

For the first time in six years, Oliver was able to truly enjoy the prospect of celebrating the holidays. The text message Felicity had sent him yesterday confirmed that for him.

' _I wouldn't miss it for the world.'_

Six words that watered the blossom of hope that her return had planted. He knew she wasn't ready to jump back into a relationship with him again, he understood that. It was obvious she had been tortured, and Oliver had enough sense to guess some of what would have happened to her in that period of time. What happened to any woman held captive. But he also believed that they would be able to repair the damage to their relationship and try again. Breaking up with Laurel had felt like removing a noose from around his neck, and the prospect of dancing with Felicity at the party, of maybe even kissing her (even chastely) beneath the mistletoe made his heart leap in excitement.

"Definitely," Tommy agreed, as Will raced off with Jase to get his coat and shoes, while Lia wandered off to do who-knew-what. He smirked and wiggled his brows. "Is a certain Jewish friend of ours going to be attending too?"

Oliver grinned. "Yup," he confirmed cheerfully. "She is."

"I'm looking forward to meeting the famous Felicity," Alyssa stated with a smile. "She sure sounds like something."

"She is," Oliver breathed, consumed with thoughts of the love of his life. "She's _everything_."

* * *

"Mommy, will you dance with me?" William, dressed in an adorable miniature version of his father's black tux, asked her with a bright smile.

Felicity's heart melted and she grinned at him, running a hand through his dark hair. "I would be honoured to dance with you, my love," she replied with a wide smile, allowing him to lead her onto the dancefloor. She had to bite back a fond laugh as he went through the steps with the exaggerated care that only a child could manage, expression screwed up in concentration as he tried his best to avoid stepping on her feet.

"Can I cut in?" she straightened, turning to look at Oliver, who held out a hand hopefully.

"What do you say, sweetheart?" Felicity asked, glancing down at William. "Do you mind?"

He shook his head. "No, I'm gonna go and dance with Lia," he declared, releasing Felicity's hand and running off to where the little dark-haired girl that Felicity had been introduced to earlier, the daughter and elder child of Tommy's girlfriend, was hovering at the buffet table. The pair had a quick discussion before returning to the dancefloor with clasped hands.

"Cute," Felicity murmured affectionately, at last removing her gaze from her son and looking at Oliver. He'd always been a good dancer, and fighting and dancing were similar. Felicity had actually learned some dancing from Shado, after Fyers' death when the three of them had been whittling away the summer days, and then she'd ended up spending some time learning ballet while in Russia. Everything had combined to turn her from a horrible klutz who'd nearly tripped down the aisle to one of the most graceful women in the room.

"You look beautiful," Oliver said, his gaze running over her tight blue dress. "I never thought I get this chance again."

"Me either," Felicity admitted. More than once, she had thought she would die without ever seeing her family again, even during her stints off the damn island. She'd come to terms with it, in fact, even as she had fought with everything in her to get back home to them.

They fell silent, swaying and twirling their way through two songs in a content silence. That had been one of the best things about their relationship. They could talk themselves hoarse about one thing or another (especially Felicity. In those days, she'd been a non-stop motormouth.), but they could just as easily stay quiet and happy in each other's arms as well.

She hadn't felt this comfortable since before going on the Gambit. She actually felt as if she were at home, in a way she hadn't fully managed. The demons were silent for once, not whispering in the back of her mind, and she didn't even feel anxious about the difficulty she was having in seeing the exits.

"Hey, look!" Thea squealed suddenly, as they paused for a break in the corner. The young brunette grinned cheekily and pointed above their heads. When they looked up, Felicity was unsurprised to see the mistletoe dangling above them. Oliver gave her his 'we-know-I'm-guilty-but-you-love-me-anyway' smile that said he'd done it on purpose. She sighed, then leaned in to briefly brush her fuchsia-painted lips across his mouth before pulling away.

"I'm gonna go get a drink and check on Will," she said to him, having suddenly gotten tense again. She had reached her limit for the night. Disappointment flickered in his eyes, but it swiftly disappeared again, replaced with an understanding only he and Sara had ever been so good at when it came to her (though Dig was starting to rival them lately), and he nodded.

"Sure," he said, letting her go.

She found the children watching Santa Clause in another room, and after ensuring that everyone was alright, she went and got her hands on a white wine spritzer. The spritzer, a fourth wine and three-fourths Sprite, was the most alcohol she could manage. Even the thought of being so much as tipsy made her shudder and hear Slade start squawking in her mind about always maintaining her guard.

Unfortunately, that was when the previously-lovely night started to go downhill.

"You think you're so clever, don't you?"

Felicity closed her eyes for a brief moment before turning around to raise an eyebrow at Laurel. "Laurel," she greeted her coolly. "I wasn't aware that you were invited."

Laurel glared at her. In another life, Felicity might've felt intimidated. As it was, she found Laurel more of an irritant than anything else. In the back of her mind, she was glad that Laurel and Sara looked so dissimilar to one another, because today was hard enough without dealing with a Sara-lookalike tormenting her too.

God, she missed her friend.

"Ollie invited me," the brunette informed her haughtily.

Felicity gave a mild smile, tilting her head to the side. "Was this before or _after_ your break-up?" she asked, smirk growing at Laurel's resultant flush. "That's what I thought. What do you want Laurel? And for the record, I don't just _think_ I'm clever, I _know_ that I'm a genius. I have an IQ of 183, in case you've forgotten."

The lawyer glared bitterly at her, fists clenched. "You stole him from me!" she declared shrilly, jabbing a finger at Felicity's chest. "Just like you stole my sister's life from her!"

Felicity felt herself go pale. Up until the mention of Sara, she had been fine, almost amused. After all, she knew that she had never gotten in between Laurel and Oliver. Despite her insecurities about why Oliver would prefer her to his ex, she knew that she had never set out to break them up, as Laurel had done for Felicity and Oliver. They'd been broken up when Felicity first met Oliver, after all, and she certainly hadn't made any attempts to draw him back to her since her return. Oliver was his own man, he made his own decisions.

But Sara...

"You," Felicity said hoarsely, "Have _no_ right to mention Sara."

"She was my sister," Laurel hissed at her.

Felicity scoffed. "Right," she spat. "Now she's dead, and you can use her as a weapon, you call her your sister. Where was that claim when she got outed before she was ready, and you called her a dyke?" she spat the question in furious disgust, remembering how she had stroked Sara's hair as the other blonde had sobbed out her humiliation into Felicity's shoulder.

Laurel somehow managed to both pale and redden at once, but Felicity stormed away before the woman could say another word. She wouldn't allow Laurel to use Sara like that.

Sara Lance was a hero who was worth a million Laurels, and she deserved better than that.

She had just stalked into the foyer when Dig popped up, looking worried, and drew her aside. "Felicity, this just went live," he informed her in a hiss, showing her his phone, streaming a live newsfeed. "The other archer, he's taken hostages."

"Show me!" she ordered sharply, watching in dismay as one of the hostages sobbed out the statement.

"Happy holidays, Starling City," the hostage whimpered, terrified tone a sharp contrast to the words being read. "For the past three months, this city has been laid siege by a vigilante. But the police have been unable to bring her to justice because they lack the will to do what justice demands. I will kill one hostage... every hour in the name of this vigilante until she surrenders herself to my authority."

The hostages all sobbed hysterically on the screen as Felicity instantly began making her way to the door (and to her motorbike, hidden in the trunk of her Mercedes.).

"Police are on the scene, Felicity," Diggle told her as he followed her. "I think you should let them handle this."

"I can't," Felicity denied. "Those people are there because of me. I have to end this."

She would put an arrow threw his psychopath's heart for this. Or a knife, she wasn't picky.

"Felicity, this guy...," Diggle gave her a worried look. "This guy, he's very dangerous."

"Diggle, there wasn't anything on the island that wasn't twice as dangerous as this pretender, and I survived there for five years," Felicity insisted, before closing her car door sharply.

/

"Freelancer," she mumbled into her Bluetooth as she staggered out of the warehouse, the blaring police sirens worsening the agony in her head, somehow recalling the handle Diggle had selected for himself (apparently, it came from his Army days). She coughed, not particularly surprised to see blood staining her glove. "Help," she croaked out weakly as she collapsed. "Dig, I need you. Help."

"I'm coming, Artemis," he responded grimly. "Just hang on, girl. I'm coming. Stay with me, okay?"

She jolted awake and came up swinging, only relaxing when she made out Diggle's blurred features bent over her, pressing her back into the hospital bed.

"Hey, relax," he soothed her, putting her glasses on for her so she could see properly. "Relax. Just relax. You're safe. You're in the hospital."

"What happened?" she croaked out.

"I back traced your signal," he explained. "Cleaned you up and got you out of there. You've got a pneumothorax, three broken ribs and a concussion, but the doctor said you're going to be fine."

"Cover story?" she asked tiredly.

"You were driving when a semi pulled out in front of you," Diggle informed her promptly. "You skidded when avoiding it. I already dealt with the car. You'll need a new one, but..." he shrugged as she nodded her thanks at him.

"Thanks Dig," she sighed, rubbing her forehead.

"We're partners, Felicity," he shrugged. "That's what we do. By the way, there are some people are here to see you."

"What?" Felicity asked, just before the door opened and the Queens all came tumbling inside, Will's face stained with tears and the others all looking frantic.

"Are you all right?" Oliver demanded worriedly, hovering over her anxiously.

"Oh, God, you look terrible," Thea declared, eyes glistening with tears.

"Thanks," Felicity smirked tiredly at her. "I'm okay, don't worry. Baby, don't cry, please. C'mere and gimme a hug. I'll be all better after that."

"Careful, William," Moira urged as the little boy hugged Felicity, burying his face in her stomach as she stroked his hair gently.

"Thank God you're alright," Oliver sighed. "What the hel-heck, Lissy? Why'd you leave like that? You didn't even say goodbye to Will, let alone anyone else!"

She gave a pleading look to Moira, who hustled her daughter, grandson and husband out of the room, leaving them be. Diggle stayed silent in the corner, unnoticed by the rich family who were so used to having 'help' around the place.

"It was Laurel," Felicity admitted. It wasn't the truth, but it was the closest she could give him. She went on, seeing his bemused expression. "She was at the party, and she confronted me. She, she brought up Sara and-it's her birthday, you know? She'd be twenty-five. I just- I didn't think, I just stormed out. I'm so sorry."

Oliver's eyes closed for a moment before he re-opened them and leaned down to kiss her forehead. "I'm just so glad that you're okay," he sighed. "I'm sorry about Laurel, I didn't think she would- Just get some rest, alright? I can see how exhausted you are. We'll talk tomorrow."

"Alright," she agreed, watching him leave and pick Will up outside the door, the boy appearing half-asleep now his adrenaline had drained away.

Then she turned to Dig. "I owe you an apology," she said softly. "I should've listened to you. I was arrogant, and it nearly got me killed, or worse, captured. I'm sorry."

Diggle shrugged. "Happens to everyone," he said simply. "Part of being human, I'm afraid. You'll do better next time."

Groaning slightly, Felicity forced herself out of the bed and made her way over to the window to stare out over the city she had sworn to protect.

"You know, Dig," she began after a few moments of silence. "When I confront somebody on the list, I tell them that they failed the city. But tonight, it was me who failed."

"Felicity, five hostages are home tonight with their families enjoying the holidays," Diggle pointed out, joining her at the window. "Because of you. This guy, the other archer... He'll get his. And you'll give it to him."

She looked at her partner, frowning deeply. "We might have a bigger problem," she admitted. "The other archer told me that somebody compiled the list. I always assumed that it was Robert. But what if it wasn't?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I think there's someone else out there," Felicity explained. "Someone who's even more of a danger than the archer." She turned back to the window, a dangerous expression on her face. "And I am going to take him down. No matter what."

Diggle reached out and rested his hand on her shoulder in support. " _We_ are going to take him down," he corrected her phrasing. "You're not in this alone, Felicity. I'm with you all the way."

She gave him a ghost of a smile, the most she could muster at that moment. "I'm both lucky and glad to have you," she said simply, earning a steady nod.


	7. Inferno

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity gets back in the game as the Queens deal with the aftermath of Walter's disappearance

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow. Again, thanks for the lovely reviews.**

**Just to clarify ages for my own sake: Felicity was sixteen on July 24, 2005, and had William on February 19** **th** **of 2006. She was about eighteen when the Gambit went down, which I put as July 2007. She was 23 when she was found. (These are canon ages.) Oliver is four years older than her.**

**I probably should have aged her up a bit, but I didn't realize until I started doing the math. I hate numbers. There is a reason I write in my spare time. It's to avoid my maths work. At any rate, just ignore that she was 16 when she had her kid. She's of age now, anyway.**

**Read, enjoy and review!**

**Chapter Seven**

**Inferno**

_**Boston: June 2005** _

_Felicity sobbed heavily, her shoulders shaking from the force of her anguish. Sara, meanwhile, rocked her and rubbed her back soothingly._

" _It's gonna be okay, Lissy," she cooed. "It's all gonna be okay. I promise."_

" _I'm sixteen in a month," Felicity sobbed. "And Oliver-God, we've only been dating for four months Sara. We're not ready for this._ _ **I'm**_ _not ready for this."_

" _You have options, Lis," Sara pointed out softly. "Adoption, or-"_

" _No, I can't," Felicity denied immediately. "That's not an option. Not for me. I can't have an abortion, I just can't. And I grew up in care. I know, they could be adopted but-I knew this girl, right? She was abandoned as a newborn, and adopted quite quickly. A few years later, her adoptive family had their own baby, and they sent Emma back. I can't risk-"_

" _Okay," Sara agreed simply. "So, you're keeping it. You know what happens next, right?"_

" _I need," Felicity paused and hiccupped, wiping her eyes and pulling away. "I need to tell Oliver," she stated glumly._

" _Hey," Sara reached out to embrace her. "It's gonna be okay, alright? Ollie loves you, I know it. The two of you are so perfect together, it's almost sickening. This is all going to be okay."_

_Felicity nodded. Unfortunately, her grace period was over, as just then the door to her apartment opened and Oliver came hurrying in, calling for her._

" _Felicity?" he called. "Are you back? What did the doctor say?"_

_Felicity cast her best friend a terrified look, and Sara pushed at her shoulders to straighten them. "You got this, girl," the other blonde whispered to her, before exiting the bedroom and greeting Felicity's boyfriend. Her boyfriend who also happened to be the father of her unborn child._

" _Sara? How is she?"_

" _She's," Sara hesitated. "Upset. You two need to talk. I'll leave you to it. Lissy, I'm heading out to meet Angie! Love you!"_

" _Love you too!" Felicity called back, her voice trembling. A minute later, the door to her bedroom was open as Oliver hurried in, looking frantic as he rushed to her._

" _Felicity, what's going on?" he pressed, gathering her into his arms. "What did the doctor say? Is it serious? I'll pay for anything, honey, I mean it. It's not charity, you're my girlfriend and-"_

" _I'm pregnant," Felicity blurted out, feeling him freeze up. "I'm pregnant," she repeated, forcing herself to turn and look at him. He was pale and shocked, staring at her blankly. "Say something, Oliver, please," she begged, tears restarting. Oh God, she was going to lose him. He was going to leave her, she just knew it. She sobbed again at the thought of losing Oliver, of raising a kid without him to help her._

" _Marry me."_

" _Wh-what?" she stammered, startled. "Oliver-"_

_He released her, sliding down on one knee and pulling off the college ring he wore. "I love you, Felicity Meghan Smoak," he declared fiercely. "I've known since the moment I laid eyes on you that you're it for me. This is quicker than I expected, but I want this. You, the baby, the whole nine yards. Marry me. Please."_

" _Are you serious?" she sniffled. "I mean, you don't think I'm some gold-digging whore who deliberately got pregnant to trap you into marriage and-"_

_He laughed at that. "Felicity, sweetheart, I'm like 98% sure that if you were trying to trap me into anything, you'd end up accidentally blurting it out in one of your babbles."_

_She flushed, acknowledging his point. "But you_ _**really** _ _want to marry me?" she pressed, voice small and full of the insecurity of a girl used to being unwanted by those she loved. "Because if you're just proposing because of the baby-"_

" _I want this, Lissy," he interrupted, reaching out to clasp her hand and staring up at her with the most amazing expression, as if she were the whole world. "I want you, and I want this baby. What do you say?"_

" _Yeah," she breathed. "Yeah, I want to marry you."_

_At that moment, she didn't care that they were both so young still, that they'd only been together for a few months and were still in college. Looking at his current expression, she agreed with his earlier claim._

_Oliver was it for her._

* * *

"How you doin'?" Dig called to her as she finished her workout, jumping down and landing lightly. "Rehab going good?"

"Fine," she replied curtly, dabbing at her sweaty hair with a towel as she caught her breath. "Any news on Walter?"

He sighed, shaking his head. "My contact at the Bureau struck out. Same with my guy at Interpol. They're both saying the same thing."

"Either Walter doesn't want to be found or someone doesn't want him to be found," Felicity concluded glumly. She didn't know Walter too well, but he was 'Grandpa Wally' to her son, he treated her kindly, was the closest thing Thea had to a father. Moira had suffered through the loss of one husband, she didn't deserve to suffer that again. And Oliver was a wreck, stretched to the breaking point trying to look after his mom and sister, keep the company under control, and harass both the SCPD and the PIs he had hired to find his missing stepfather. At the very least, the family needed closure.

"It's been four weeks, Felicity," Diggle pointed out gently. "No contact from the kidnappers, no ransom demand, no proof of life. I hate to sound-"

"Dig...," she interrupted him tiredly. "We both know he's more than likely dead. But the people who took him aren't, and I'm gonna make them regret what they've done."

"What do you want to do?" Dig asked.

She shrugged. "I don't know," she admitted. "Even my contacts in the Bratva can't dig up a lead. I got nothing to go on."

"I wasn't talking about Walter," Dig told her, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow at her. "You're back at fighting weight, looks like."

Felicity hesitated, a feeling of uncertainty she hadn't felt in years creeping up on her. "I am," she admitted. "But..." she trailed off and sighed.

"Felicity, talk to me," John urged her. "If you can't talk straight to me, who can you talk to?"

"You're right," she acknowledged, heading over to swing her legs over her computer chair so that she was sitting backwards, with her chest pressed against the backrest, and frowned at the floor, trying to gather her thoughts into a coherent sequence.

"I've...," she paused and exhaled, restarting. "I've been close to death. On the island... More times than I can remember, and I never feared it. 'Cause I had nothing to lose. Everyone I loved already thought I was dead, I figured I was gonna die there. I fought because I had to, but I had resigned myself to dying on that hellhole the first year I was there.

But when that archer almost killed me; I thought about all the people that I've let into my life since I've been back. Oliver, William, Thea. Even you. I thought about how Oliver keeps saying that he and Will can't lose me again. And that made me afraid. Afraid of what would happen to them if I died. And for the first time in so long, I had something to lose."

She peeked up at him, seeing the sympathetic expression on his face as he reached out to rest a hand on her shoulder.

"Well, I think that you've got it backwards, Felicity," he told her. "You think the people you let in are taking your edge. I think it gives you one. Maybe even a stronger one. You can stare down death with something to live for or not. Something to live for is better."

She swallowed heavily. "Thank you, John," she said to him, putting all of her sincerity and gratefulness into her voice.

He shrugged. "Partners, right?" he reminded her.

She nodded, and grabbed the book, flipping it open to a marked page before clicking a few keys to bring up some newspaper articles about a man named Justin Claybourne. "This guy's the CEO of Claybourne Pharmaceuticals," she began. "He's involved with a group called the AK Desmond Group. They're fond of replicating serious illnesses, for example TB, and starting epidemics that can only be cured by medicines they conveniently sell cheap."

"Assholes," Dig scoffed in disgust. "So, they're next?"

"Yes-," Felicity began to nod, only to start in surprise when the burner connected to the one she sent to Lance started to buzz. Wrinkling her brow, she reached out and snatched it up, pressing the answer button. "Detective? This is a surprise."

"It's Laurel actually," was the reply, making Felicity's eyebrows shoot to the top of her forehead. "I need your help. It's important."

"Tell me where to meet you," Felicity instructed her after a moment of hesitation. She didn't like Laurel, she didn't want working with her to become a habit, but she would do what she had to. Her job was to protect the city, and protect the city she would do. If Laurel had information about a threat, than Felicity had the obligation to hear her out, at least.

And tell her to return the phone to her father. It was different with Lance, he was a police officer. He'd signed up to put his life on the line for the greater good of the city. Laurel was a civilian.

And, despite their fractured relationship, she was still Sara's sister.

After making the arrangements, she hung up without a goodbye and rose to her feet with a tired sigh, cracking her back and absently musing that she was way too young to feel this old.

"I thought you were done working with Laurel," Dig stated mildly.

"So did I," Felicity sighed. "But she says that it's important. Personally, I think she's a bitch, but I'll acknowledge that she's devoted to her work at CNRI. I have to at least hear her out."

"Alright," Dig agreed. "While you do that, I can do some looking into Claybourne. See what other shit he's into."

She nodded, striding for the hanger where her leather suit hung.

"And Felicity?" she paused to look at him.

He smiled at her encouragingly. "You're making a difference in this city, Felicity," he stated firmly. "Don't doubt that. In the four months you've been active, muggings, assaults, everything was down. Murder rate dropped by 16%. You can't always win, but you can only win if you try."

She nodded thoughtfully. "I'm not gonna stop fighting," she promised him. "Not while there's breath left in my body. I just-I forgot, for a moment, why I was doing this. Thank you, for reminding me."

"Always."

* * *

"Surely there are contingencies for these types of situations," Oliver heard his mom saying as he entered the mansion with Will at his side. Quietly, he sent his young son upstairs to have a shower and get out of his dirt-stained baseball uniform, while Oliver made his way to the living room where his mother and Thea were, along with the CFO of the company, Ned Foster.

"Bring someone over from our London office, perhaps," Moira suggested as he entered.

"It's not solely a matter of the day to day operations," Foster said delicately. "We have accountants and the vice presidents to do that. It's about perception. Public confidence."

"Ned, the company will be fine," Moira insisted stubbornly.

"Moira, I don't mean to be indelicate, but this is the second time in five years that the CEO of Queen Consolidated has vanished under mysterious circumstances," Foster pointed out, making the tension in the room rachet up by about fifty degrees.

"I don't need you to remind me of that," Moira bit out coldly, pain flashing in her eyes. Oliver quietly rested a hand on his mother's shoulder in silent support.

"The last thing I want to do is upset you," Foster claimed, rising when she did.

"Well, then you should consider this visit doubly disappointing," Moira responded curtly. "Good day."

Foster sighed and left, nodding to Oliver and Thea.

"What was that about?" Oliver asked softly.

"The board wants Mom to take Walter's place," Thea informed him.

"He says that the company's stock price has been damaged by Walter's absence, and my stepping in would help settle the board," Moira added, before continuing firmly. "But I told him that I needed to be at home, for my family."

"Mom... Thea and I are fine," Oliver said carefully. "We can manage here without you. This sounds like something everyone needs you to do." He'd have done it if he could, but even now his pre-Felicity playboy days dogged his footsteps, plus the three years he'd spent living off his trust fund and wasting his degree as he focused on raising Will and looking for any hint of what had happened to his wife. He wasn't seen as a very reliable person, unfortunately. Him taking over in such an uncertain time wouldn't help reassure the board.

"Well, maybe I don't care what everyone needs!" Moira snapped, before stalking out of the room. No doubt she was headed back to her bedroom to stare mournfully at photographs of Walter again.

Oliver sighed, forcing a smile at his younger sister, who looked miserable and worried. "She's going to be all right, Thea," he promised her. She would be. His mother was strong, she would pull herself out of this slump. She had last time, after all. He forced himself not to contemplate the fact that it had been Walter who had gotten her to set aside her grief and start acting normally again after the Gambit's sinking. He couldn't let himself think about that.

Thea gave a dull nod, blue eyes shining with sorrow, and also wandered off. Oliver was left alone in the sitting room, feeling lonelier than ever. Unable to stand it, he grabbed the keys to his Ducati and hurried off.

* * *

Felicity had been studying the information she'd gathered on the firemen's deaths when the buzzer went off and her doorman, Austin James, informed her that Oliver was there to see her.

"Send 'im up," she ordered Austin, opening the door as soon as she heard the knock. "Hey," she greeted him gently, studying him with concern. "What's going on? Did Will leave something or-?"

"No, I," he paused and cleared his throat, glancing away for a second before looking back at her again. "I just, I needed to not be alone. Can I-please?"

"Of course," she murmured, unable to refuse him when he was so pained, as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. "Come inside." He stepped inside, turning the helmet over in his hands and shifting uncertainly.

"I was about to binge-watch the fifth season of Doctor Who," she told him lightly, trying to ease the tension in the room. "Want to join me?"

"Yeah, that'd be good," he agreed, putting down the helmet and shoving his hands into his pockets, his shoulders hunched defensively.

"Popcorn?"

"Yeah."

"Soda? I don't have any alcohol, I'm afraid."

"Soda's fine," he agreed.

She shoved a packet into the microwave and then poured two small glasses of Coke out for them, trying to ignore the fact that this echoed many of their dates. Oliver had quickly gotten the message that she found it uncomfortable to go out to fancy restaurants and that her ideal date was a more relaxed time. not to mention, his lack of sci-fi knowledge had hurt her in her very soul, and so she had taken it on herself to educate him.

Soon enough, they were curled up on the couch, munching on the popcorn and sipping their drinks as they watched the Eleventh Doctor and his companions save the universe.

"Can't say that I like this River Song character very much," Felicity commented lightly.

"Oh? Why not?" Oliver replied, an arm draped over her shoulders. She'd frozen up when he'd done it, but he had done so as naturally as he had six years ago. "I think that she's interesting."

"Yeess, I'll give you that," Felicity acknowledged. "But this romance between them won't work out. She died the first time they met, after all. And the Doctor isn't the type of person to let himself fall in love with someone whom he knows is going to die."

"True," Oliver nodded absently. "There's, um, there's a fundraiser on at Verdant the day after tomorrow," he said, switching topics suddenly. "For the fire department. They've had a string of deaths recently, and there's some bureaucracy keeping the families getting their dues, so Tommy and I thought we could raise some money for them. I was wondering if, uh, if you'd like to come."

"I'd love to," she agreed gently, not just because she might be able to get the opportunity to question some members of Chief Raynes' unit. All of the recently dead had been part of the same unit before it had been split up, and the coroner's reports she had hacked showed some interesting, and incredibly suspicious, results in the autopsy reports.

She studied Oliver, reaching out to brush a lock of hair out of his forehead and causing him to turn to glance at her with his worry and misery shining from his blue eyes. She could have spent hours staring at those eyes. They were the same shade as the ocean, and in the non-life-threatening days she had spent on Lian Yu, she would sometimes go down to the beach to gaze out at the water, dreaming longingly of returning to her husband and son.

"Wanna talk about it?" she asked softly.

He was quiet for a moment before speaking. "I just-it's just like after the Gambit, you know? Mom's locked herself in her bedroom. She won't even bother getting dressed most of the time. Just spends the whole day crying or looking at photos of Walter. It's as if she's a ghost. Thea's in denial. Yesterday she said that he's probably just having a mid-life crisis and run off with another woman, that he's too ashamed of it to come home, or call and say that he's alright.

Then there's the company. The board are getting anxious, seeing as the past two CEOs have both disappeared. They want Mom to take over, but that would require her to actually leave the house, God forbid. The SCPD keep telling me that they're looking into it, but they don't have any leads. I've hired _six_ different private investigators, and none of them have found anything either because all of them are incompetent _morons_ and-"

He trailed off. In the midst of his rant, he'd risen to his feet, as if he had too much energy to stay still, and started pacing. In a fit of anger at the situation, he cut himself off and hit the wall.

The fighter in Felicity winced at the punch. He hadn't even tucked his thumb. She hoped he hadn't gone and broken it.

"Okay," she breathed, rising to her feet as well and reaching out to grab his wrist and tug him after her. "Okay. Come with me."

"Where are we going?" he asked as she led him into the small room she had converted into a miniature gym for herself. "What's this?" he questioned her, his confusion clear. Of course, he probably wasn't aware of how much exercise she did nowadays.

Back before the island, she'd considered it a good week if she did thirty minutes of yoga all together, not to mention she liked going for walks. Sometimes Sara would be able to drag her to a kickboxing class, something she'd become more enthusiastic about after Will's birth, when she'd been trying to shed her excess pregnancy weight. On occasion she'd go swimming too. But that was the most of it. She'd been a junk food junkie, and had a fantastic metabolism that spared her the need to make up for it by going to the gym regularly. She'd preferred it that way. More time for her IT work, studies and Oliver.

Now, however, keeping in shape was _literally_ a matter of life or death for her. Most of her workouts were done at the base, but she had gotten herself a Fusion Motion Portable Gym off of Amazon. It came with eight different accessories designed to build muscle and core strength, such as heavy resistance bands, a tri-cep bar, an ab roller wheel and pulleys. She also had a yoga mat and, most importantly for this particular evening, a punching bag.

"Here," she instructed him, passing him some tape. "Wrap your hands, like this." She showed, and he followed her orders with a doubtful expression. Then she directed him towards the bag, gesturing at it. "Go on then," she urged. "Hit it."

"Why should I?" he huffed. She suspected he was more being contrary than anything else.

"I'm angry, Oliver," she admitted softly to him, earning a startled look. "Sometimes, when I think of everything I missed, everything that I went through on the island, I'm so angry that I can't even breathe. I need to do something to get it all out, otherwise it'll drive me insane. So, I hit the bag. And that's what you're gonna do now. You're going to picture whatever, or whoever, is causing you the most stress, whomever you're most angry with. Then you're going to punch that bag until the anger's gone."

"I don't know, Lissy," he hesitated. She wasn't surprised that he was reluctant. Oliver had never been a violent person. Only once had she seen him lash out physically, at a paparazzo who'd been stalking and harassing him for over a month, and it hadn't been until the asshole had groped Felicity and made several suggestive comments about her that he'd snapped and punched the guy.

"Trust me, please?" she urged. "Just give it a try. For me."

"Alright," he sighed, shoulders slumping as he turned to the bag and hesitantly hit it.

"Was that a hit or a love-tap?" she asked wryly, before correcting his stance and fist. "Like this," she murmured. "Keep your thumb tucked inside, and put your whole body into it."

It took a few more tries, but soon enough he was beating the bag furiously, making it shake as he poured out his rage and grief. The whole time, Felicity leaned against the wall with her arms crossed and watched quietly until he was done at last, slumped, sweaty and exhausted, at which point she guided him to her bedroom and tucked him into her bed to sleep. She stared at him for a moment, sighing, before heading to the couch and pulling her research back up to continue looking into the deaths of the Fireflies.

* * *

"Do you think that curses are real?" Thea asked her over lunch at Big Belly Burger the next day. Felicity glanced distractedly at her as she answered, most of her attention on persuading William to eat his salad too, not just his Big Belly Chicken Bites.

Apparently having his mother back for the best part of five months now meant that he was willing to stop always acting like the perfect son, and to have temper tantrums. A part of her was pleased, as it meant that he was comfortable enough to act out around her (as Diggle had reminded her the first time, when she'd been working herself into a panic that he might have gotten over the enjoyment of having a mom returned from the dead and decided that he hated her), but it _was_ frustrating when he acted out. Thankfully, he was a naturally sweet child, and didn't do so often. Felicity suspected that missing Walter and the multiple upheavals he'd been through in the past couple of months were causing him to lash out. Maybe she and Oliver should consider sending him to see a therapist or something.

"Well," Felicity replied distractedly. "If you think that you're cursed, I have a friend who's a Master of the Dark Arts. He could probably sort you out. It'd be a while before he could come, though. He was busy hunting down a demon in Mexico last time we talked."

Thea snorted, evidently thinking that Felicity was joking, though she actually wasn't. Then she sobered, and Felicity responded to the troubled look in her sister-in-law's grey-blue eyes. She glanced around, spying Dig chatting to his nephew AJ in another booth, and then turned back to her son.

"William, sweetheart," she began. "Why don't you run over to Dig and AJ, and show them your new toy?"

William, who was probably the friendliest child alive and had bonded easily with Dig's nephew (and with Dig, who was now his 'uncle'), grinned and jumped down from the bench, running over to show off the plastic action figure to the two Diggles.

"What's bothering you?" Felicity demanded immediately, the moment that he was out of earshot.

Thea looked down at the table, twisting her napkin in her fingers. "I just-what does it say about me, that both of my dads went missing?" she asked rhetorically. "Am I cursed, or just that terrible a daughter?"

"Thea, honey, you know that's not it," Felicity insisted, taking her hand and squeezing it. "Robert-that was a storm, sweetheart. A horrible tragic accident, but nobody's fault. And as for Walter," she sighed. "I don't know what happened to him, but you can't give up hope, alright? I mean, I was missing for five years, wasn't I? Everyone thought I was long dead, but here I am. Have faith, Thea. We'll find out what happened to Walter. I swear."

She didn't dare promise that they'd find him, especially not alive. She couldn't guarantee that, and she wouldn't lie to the soon-to-be eighteen-year-old. Thea deserved better. But one way or another, she would find out what happened to her husband's stepfather.

And when she got her hands on the people who took him, she would make them regret it. _Dearly._

* * *

" _Eyewitnesses contend that numerous lives would have been lost if not for the timely intervention of Artemis,"_ Bethany Snow, the newsanchorwoman who appeared to be a worshipper of the vigilante, stated. _"But these were not the actions of a vigilante. What's been described are the actions of a hero."_

Felicity felt her cheeks tint pink slightly, even if the only person to understand why she was affected by Bethany's words was Diggle, who shot her a discreet smile.

"I'm glad you're okay, Mommy," Will told her as he released her from the embrace. "I heard Daddy tell Auntie Thea that you were stuck in the fire." His bottom lip wobbled slightly and his eyes shone with unshed tears. Felicity crouched to be level with him, cupping his face in her hands.

"Don't worry, Baby, I promise," she swore. It wasn't even a lie, although her ribs ached from jumping out of the window to escape the flames. It was only a few weeks ago that the Dark Archer had beaten her so thoroughly, and though she had long gotten used to fighting while not at 100%, the pain was irritating.

She had confronted the fire chief at the fundraiser with the evidence she had gathered about the Nodell Towers incident, forcing him to admit the truth about Garfield Lynns' death. The next thing she knew, the club was ablaze, and she had just barely managed to save Raynes from Lynns, before tugging on her vigilante coat and wig-mask. She had tried to convince Lynns to survive, but he had chosen to die instead. She had shot him as he walked into the flames, knowing from experience (as the severe burn scars on her back could attest) how painful burning was. It had been a mercy killing, but she still wished she could have done more, done _better_.

Afterwards, she had rushed out and hastened to change back into her other outfit, shoving the duffel with her vigilante outfit out of sight before joining everywhere, where she had found Oliver frantically searching for her. They'd had a short but vicious fight about her being missing when the club had just gone up in flames, but he had settled down after she had spent the night in a guest room at the mansion, though something about the way he was looking at her made her feel uneasy, and she wasn't sure why.

Just then, Moira came into the living room, dressed in a crisp skirt suit.

"Good morning," she greeted everyone.

"Sharp suit, Mom!" Thea whistled. "Not used to seeing you without your bedroom wrapped around you."

"Well, I could hardly go to the office in my pajamas," Moira replied mildly. "I'm taking Walter's position at the office."

"What changed your mind?" Oliver asked, looking surprised but pleased.

"Not what," Moira corrected him. " _Who_. My daughter. My family." She looked around at them, including Felicity in the group. "And I promise you, Walter _will_ get back to us. I will keep looking for him and I _will_ find him. And I'll see you for dinner."

With that, she strode out, as in control and determined as ever. Moira Queen was definitely one to emulate.

"Mm-hmm," Thea hummed. Felicity and Oliver looked at her curiously.

"What?" Oliver asked.

"Just feeling the whiplash," Thea shrugged. "She went from shut-in to chairman pretty fast."

"Sounds like you got through to her," Oliver shrugged.

"Yeah, I guess," Thea muttered.

"This is a good thing, Thea," Felicity insisted. "The work will be a good distraction from her worry. It's not healthy for her to be locking herself inside."

"I know, I know," Thea nodded. "I just-I'm surprised that she listened to me."

"When you're a mother," Felicity replied. "You'll realize that you'll never be able to listen to anybody as intently as you do to your kid."

Thea gave another nod, thoughtful this time.

"Thing will work out," Oliver promised her softly. "I promise, Speedy."

"Yeah," Thea agreed. "They will. We'll get him back."

"The worst thing you can do is give up hope," Felicity agreed. "Like Martin Luther King Junior said: 'only when it is dark enough can you see the stars.'"


	8. Learning to Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity and Dig reach a new depth of understanding with one another, and come out of it with a stronger partnership than before.

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow. As usual, thank you all for enjoying and reviewing, keep on doing so. Just a single chapter this time. Tell me, do you guys prefer waiting a bit longer (just a few extra days most of time I expect) for a double update, or one chapter more frequently? Also, sorry if Will sounds a bit too mature for a three-year-old in the flashback scene. I tried, but the kid's a genius, so...Difficult balance to achieve**

**Quotes used in the chapter:**

**Quote 1: Learning to trust is one of life's most difficult tasks by Isaac Watts**

**Quote 2:** **Trust. It was like placing a blade in someone's hand and setting the point at your own heart.** **by Cassandra Clare**

**Quote 3: That's kind of what trust is, isn't it? A wilful self-delusion by Brandon Sanderson**

**Read, enjoy and review!**

**Chapter Eight**

**Learning to Trust is One of Life's Most Difficult Tasks**

Felicity was in the middle of an intense round of chin-ups when Diggle came in. To cover the sound of building going on in the would-be offices above them, she had Meatloaf belting out of the headphones she wore. Of course, she was angled to see the only entrances into the base, so she saw her partner arrive, tugging the left earphone (she never had both in at once) out of her ear and letting them dangle around her neck to hear him properly.

"With all the guys working up top, you might want to think about a side entrance for your, uh, Arrowcave," Diggle commented.

"(A) Just put one in," Felicity informed him. "South alleyway. (B) For the love of God, please _never_ call it that again. And (C), I'm glad that you're here, there's something I want to show you."

She released the bar and let herself fall to the ground.

"Going to hook up with your sort-of ex-husband and need help picking out an outfit?" Dig suggested wryly. "Gotta say, I'm not the best person to turn to for fashion advice. But I'm delighted that you're going to finally deal with all of the UST."

She shot him an unamused expression "Haha," she said dryly. "No. There is no UST, and said non-existent UST is not being dealt with. Ever. But there _is_ somebody I'd like to hook up with. In a _very_ different way." She gestured at the computer screens, full of information on the recent armoured trucks heists.

"Yeah, I read about it," Dig stated as he studied the screens. "This is the third truck to be hit this month."

"I saw it on the news this morning," Felicity explained, flipping her braid over her shoulder. "I couldn't figure out why it seemed so familiar. Then I remembered this. Kandahar, '09, when the Marines took out a Taliban transport vehicle."

"Yeah," Diggle confirmed. "Well, there's a reason why it looks so similar. These guys are running the same swarming technique. Where'd you find this?"

"I was researching someone," Felicity explained. "A bodyguard who works for a private security firm. Blackhawk Squad Protection Group. His name is Ted Gaynor."

She was surprised and concerned by her partner's reaction. His face paled and he stared at her in shocked disbelief.

"Felicity, Ted Gaynor was my commanding officer on my first tour in Afghanistan," he told her, making her exhale sharply.

"Fuck," she muttered, reaching up to run a hand through her sweat-dampened curls. "Dig, he's on the List."

"He's a couple hundred thousand dollars short of belonging on it!"

She raised her hands defensively. "Okay, okay, breathe, time-out please? I won't go after him without proof Diggle. I swear to God. But the evidence from these heists is definitely leading back to Blackhawk. We need to investigate them."

"Ted's not involved in this," Dig insisted stubbornly.

"Okay," Felicity agreed quietly, hiding her scepticism as she recalled the video left by Robert for her and Oliver that she had found while infiltrating QC with Maseo back in 2010. The one explaining the List to them, and asking (again) for them to right his wrongs. "I trust you, okay? I trust your judgement. But look at this evidence and tell me we shouldn't be checking Blackhawk out. For now, we assume that Gaynor's not involved. But _someone_ there is."

Diggle's lips were pursed tightly as he studied the information and gave a grudging nod.

"You know Gaynor, can we use that?" Felicity inquired carefully. She knew from painful, bitter experience that, when it was someone you trusted, believing that person could have betrayed you hurt bitterly, and was almost impossible to accept. What was it Slade had said?

' _Everyone's in this life for themselves, Barbie!'_

Trust. It was like placing a blade in someone's hand and setting the point at your own heart, a wilful self-delusion, yet, despite herself, she still trusted a limited amount of people. She also trusted Robert, and his message warning her (and Oliver, though as far as she knew he'd never accessed the file with the message, and she had deleted it from the computer after downloading it.) that everyone on the List had a reason to be there.

Ted Gaynor might've saved Dig's life back in Afghanistan, but Felicity knew better than most how twisted people could become after years in battle. And after the shock of suddenly not being in battle again.

She trusted Diggle, she truly did. It was Gaynor she didn't trust.

That was why, even as Dig and she made plans for Dig to use his friendship with Gaynor to infiltrate Blackhawk and figure out who was responsible for organizing the heists by her staging an attack in which Dig would 'stop' her, Gaynor remained her chief suspect.

* * *

_**Starling City: 2010** _

_She couldn't resist. It had been so long since she had seen her son and her husband. This was the first time in three years that she had set foot in Starling City. She had to break into the mansion anyway, and her head was completely out of whack after spying Oliver in the office at QC, so close but so far. Not to mention seeing Thea, sweet little Thea, doing drugs._

_Hopefully the dead dealer would put her off that particular bad habit._

_She broke into her marital family's home with disturbing ease given her family lived there, creeping through it and heading for the family wing, where she would find the nursery. Maseo had agreed to let her, so long as she swore not to actually speak to any of her family. Mostly because she'd guilted him into it, reminding him of Akio and that it had been years since she'd so much as laid eyes on her own baby boy._

_She ducked into an empty drawing room to avoid Raisa as the Russian housekeeper walked by, before exiting and heading towards the bedrooms._

_She froze for a moment before the door labelled 'Will's Room' in blue bubble sticker letters. In the back of her mind, she wondered how on earth Oliver (or maybe it was Thea?) had persuaded Moira to allow that._

" _Felicity," Maseo hissed over the comm. "You need to hurry up. Five minutes."_

_She swallowed and forced out the reply. "Got it. Five minutes. Okay." She turned off the comm after that, despite knowing that he'd be annoyed with her._

_This was private._

_Her heart was stuck in her throat as she tentatively pushed open the door to the nursery and slipped inside the dark room, quietly pulling it closed again behind her._

_She looked around, taking in the room with a soft smile to fight the tears that stung her eyes. Nothing had changed a bit. Back when she was pregnant, she'd told Oliver that she wanted a circus theme for their baby's room, and he'd gone all out, producing a nursery that could probably be used as a showroom. Deep, red velvet curtains with gold rope ties, a wicker basket overflowing with different types of stuffed toys and a white-with-red polka dots cover on it, a toybox painted with circus scenes that was half-open to show the various toys within. A bookshelf with various kids' books filling it, a large, stuffed giraffe beside a cushion-lined rocking chair in the corner, three white walls with one painted a deep red, all decorated with photos of the family, including one of Felicity, Oliver and Will, the day of the latter's birth._

_And finally, where there had once been the Queen family cradle, was a child's bed with safety bars on the side. A small form was curled up underneath the red duvet, only a tuft of dark hair visible._

_Felicity's breath caught at the sight. In a trance, she made her way over to William's side and dropped to her knees. Before she realized what she was doing, she reached out to run her hand through his soft curls, unintentionally making him stir._

_Confusion filled his tiny, amazing face, and he scrunched up his nose as he peered at her for a moment. She gazed back at him, intent on memorizing every tiny detail while she could. Then recognition lit up his face and he flung himself at her with a cry of "Mommy!"_

" _Hello," she breathed, reflexively steadying herself as she cradled him. "Hello William."_

" _Mommy, you came back!" he declared, his innocent delight making her heart ache. "I knew it! I knew you would! Daddy'll be so happy!"_

_She bit back her tears as she pulled away a bit to look at him. "Honey," she sighed. "I'm sorry. I can't come home, Baby. Not yet. This is just, a visit. A quick one."_

_His expression fell, worsening her sorrow and guilt. "Why not?"_

_She sighed, brushing some hair out of his face. "Because, there are some people," she explained carefully. "Bad people, who are doing something dangerous. Mommy promised to help stop them. As soon as I can, I swear that I'll come back to you."_

_Will's eyes filled with tears, and he sniffled as he cuddled closer to her. "You promise you'll come home?"_

" _I do," she confirmed._

_He stuck out his pinky finger, looking at her with wide eyes. "Pinky promise?"_

_She gave a small smile, curling her own pinky around his tiny one and trying not to remember how Baby Will had wrapped his tiny hand around her thumb the first time she'd held him, turning him from an amazing and terrifying dream to reality for her._

" _Pinky promise," she repeated. He brightened, leaning in to give her a smacking kiss on the cheek as she cuddled him to her._

_Her comm buzzed, once, twice. Maseo's signal that her time was up and she needed to go. She sighed in pain, lifting him up and returning him to bed._

_He must have inherited her intelligence, because his face fell in understanding. "You gotta go, don' you?" her sweet, three-year-old baby asked mournfully._

" _I do, but I need you to promise me something, Baby."_

" _Okay, I can do that," Will declared earnestly._

" _Remember that I love you and Daddy more than anything else in the world, and that I'm doing everything I can to get back to you, alright?"_

" _I promise, Mommy."_

_Just then, she heard voices and footsteps, and knew that she had to go. If Oliver found her, she'd be screwed. She wouldn't be able to leave them behind if he asked her to stay and who knew what Waller would do then?_

_She tucked her son in with a whispered 'I love you' and kissed his forehead, before hastening over to the window._

" _See ya later, Mommy," Will called to her as she climbed out, clinging to the trellis. "I love you."_

" _I love you too, Kiddo," she whispered back again, before dragging the window back down. She was just in time, hearing the door to Will's room open as she pulled it closed. Years of being in death-defying situations and having to compensate for her lack of glasses had given her the hearing of a bat to make up for her vision problems, and she was able to hear Oliver come inside, seemingly having just returned from Tommy's ruined birthday party._

" _Will, why aren't you asleep, Kiddo?" Oliver asked sternly. A wistful sigh escaped her lips, and she had to remind herself of Waller's threats to her family to keep from sneaking back in, from kissing him again, being held by him again._

" _Mommy woke me up," Will explained. She winced, wondering what to do. Of course, it turned out that she didn't have to do anything, in the end._

" _You had a dream about Mommy?" Oliver asked, a hint of pain in his voice that made her heart ache again, this time in guilt over his hurt. "Was it a nice one?"_

" _It wasn't a dream!" William insisted crossly. "She was here, in my bedroom. She climbed out the window! It was right before you came in!"_

_The sound of Oliver denying William's words and approaching the window to prove it was her cue. With the ease of practice, she let go of the trellis and jumped to land light as a cat in the bushes below, hiding in them until Oliver had pulled his head back in._

_Feeling even more miserable than before her return to Starling, Felicity turned her comm back on. "Alright," she sighed. "I'm done. On my way."_

" _Copy that," Maseo replied simply. Thankfully, he didn't press her for information on what had happened after she confirmed that she wasn't compromised, leaving her to lick her emotional wounds in peace._

* * *

John sat in Big Belly Burger, smiling at Ted's story.

"Two days later, I am _still_ digging regurgitated tacos out of the car vents and he asks me why I won't turn on the A/C," Ted finished, the two of them chuckling in amusement at the story.

"Alright, you win," Dig agreed. "Bodyguarding Felicity Queen was never that bad."

Though she was certainly doing her best to turn him grey with worry over her mad stunts.

"Six years serving my country, the only thing I'm qualified for is babysitting spoiled brats," Ted commented with a bitter smirk as he took a swig of his soda.

"Well, Ted, they're not all like that," John insisted. Dig hadn't spent much time with Oliver Queen or Tommy Merlyn, given Felicity's often-awkward relationship with her husband, but the men seemed like good people from what he knew of them. And Thea Queen was like any teenager really, except she had too much money for her own good. But she had a good heart. And it went without saying that Will was one of the sweetest, most intelligent kids that he'd ever met.

"I haven't met one yet that would survive a single day in country," Ted scoffed. "Sometimes it makes me wonder what I was doing over there."

Just then, Carly came over and handed Gaynor a slice of cake. "Specialty of the house," she declared with a winning smile.

"Thank you, Carly," Ted whistled as he prepared to dig in.

"No." John held up a hand jokingly, giving her a look of mock offence. "Where is my cake?"

She shrugged, smirking mischievously. "Tired of listening to you complain about the dry cleaners shrinking your suit." With that, she sauntered off, leaving them to chuckle.

"Oh, yeah," Ted grinned at him knowingly. "She likes you," he stated.

"She's my sister-in-law, Ted," John protested weakly.

Ted gave him a sympathetic, but stern, look. "Not anymore," he pointed out. "Your brother's gone, John. But you are here."

Just then, another man came up to their table, his expression cold and distant.

"Car's waiting outside," he informed Gaynor, not glancing at John. "Got a client to drop off at the Chaykin Art Gallery opening."

Ted nodded, looking back at John. "John, you remember Paul Knox?" he prompted, waving between them. "He was a couple of ranks under us back in the 'Stan."

"Good to be working with you," Dig lied, stomach twisting. He remembered Knox alright. He'd never liked the guy. There was something about him, and if Dig remembered right, Knox had received more than a few write-ups for things like backtalking, insubordination, fighting with other members of his unit and the like.

"I'll be outside," Knox stated coldly, ignoring Dig's overture, before stalking out.

"I didn't know that Knox worked at Blackhawk," John said to his old friend.

Ted shrugged. "They recruited him when his tour ended last month," he explained casually.

"Mm-hmm."

Gaynor sighed. "People change, John," he pointed out. "And everyone deserves a chance to prove it."

John nodded, because Ted was right. People did change. In the past few hours since he had come to Gaynor asking for a job so as to infiltrate Blackhawk, he had gotten the sense that Ted himself had changed. The question was, was it for the better. Or, as Felicity clearly suspected, despite her agreement to believe Gaynor innocent until further notice, for the worse?

* * *

"This has been lovely, Mr. Merlyn," Alyssa said with a polite smile. Tommy could see beneath it however. She had encouraged him to go to the dinner, but to be wary.

Alyssa was familiar with crappy parents. Her mother was the kindest woman that Tommy had ever had the pleasure of meeting, but her father had been fond of drink and using his wife and daughter as punching bags, up until he'd been arrested for assaulting a police officer when Aly was twelve. The arrest had led to the discovery of the abuse, subsequently resulting in a divorce. So Alyssa understood his hesitance to trust Malcolm, despite wanting to.

Tommy was truly blessed to have been lucky enough to meet her, and he had surely struck gold the day she agreed to join him for coffee.

"Thank you," Malcolm replied with a smile that (as per usual) failed to meet his eyes. "And thank you for joining me. It's been wonderful getting to know you better. And if Tommy doesn't mind me mixing a little business with pleasure, I could use your signature on these." He removed a set of papers from his jacket pocket and handed it over. Tommy took them, realizing with a jab of bitter resignation that whatever this was, it was surely the real reason his dad had reached out to him.

But even knowing that wasn't enough to cushion the blow of what he read. His head snapped back and he stared in disbelief at his father. "You want to shut down Mom's free clinic?"

Alyssa, who volunteered at the clinic on a regular basis and knew of its' importance to Tommy, knew his dream of running it in Rebecca's place one day, gasped and covered her mouth, shooting Malcolm a disgusted look as he replied.

"It's not hers anymore, Tommy."

"That clinic meant everything to Mom!" Tommy exclaimed, recalling how proud she had been of it. Rebecca Merlyn had come from humble origins, and had never let the money she married into go to her head. The clinic had been as much her baby as Tommy himself was.

"You were eight-years-old," Malcolm pointed out icily. "I don't think you were in a position to know what was important to your mother. I just need your signature-"

"Stop!" Tommy snapped, rising and shoving the papers back towards Malcolm. "This dinner was never about getting to know Aly. It was about _this_. You haven't changed and you _never_ will. It's about time that I learned that and stopped letting you disappoint me. We're leaving."

He stalked off, hearing Aly pause to confront his father as he demanded their coats from the bewildered and nervous maitre d'.

"That clinic was his mother's," Aly hissed.

"Yes," Malcolm agreed. "And his mother taught him a lesson I've been trying to, that the world is a harsh and unforgiving place."

"And when did she teach him that? 'cause I've never tried to teach that sort of thing to _my_ kids, that's for sure."

"She taught him that when she was lying dead in the street with a bullet in her head."

"You're wrong about that, Mr. Merlyn," Aly declared icily. "It wasn't _Rebecca_ who taught Tommy that cruelty exists. It was _you_ , when you chose to walk away from your grieving little boy when he needed you most. The only good thing about your wife's death, is that she didn't have to suffer the horrified disgust of seeing what kind of man she married. You sure as hell make _me_ sick, at any rate." With that, she spun on her heel and stalked over to join Tommy, leaving Malcolm with a furious expression that sent shivers down Tommy's spine.

He shot one last glare, filled with bitterness and resentment, to his father, before offering Aly his arm and guiding her from the restaurant.

"Hey, Babe," Aly murmured, leaning her head against his arm. "Don't bother wasting one more thought on that piece of trash. He isn't worth it. You've got a family, and he isn't part of it."

Tommy swallowed, biting back the tears that welled in his eyes. "You know what would be great right now?" he asked hoarsely.

"What?"

"If we picked the kids up from your mom's, and went to the cinema with them." He loved those kids. He loved playing football with Jase and having a tea party with Lia. No matter how bad a day he'd had, a few hours with Aly and the kids always soothed away the hurt he was feeling.

Aly kissed his cheek, green eyes shining with love and understanding sympathy. "That sounds perfect to me too," she agreed.

Tommy managed to force a tiny smile, appreciating the comfort her presence gave him.

At one point, he'd had a major crush on Laurel. But she'd been with Ollie, and the bro-code forbid Tommy from pursuing her. Then he'd met Alyssa, and realized that whatever he had felt for Laurel was only surface deep, and she herself had always treated him a bit like an afterthought. What he had with Alyssa was _real_ , and lasting. Better than anything he'd've had with Laurel.

He finally had enough saved up to buy her a ring. All he had to do was pick out the perfect one, and find the perfect time to propose.

* * *

"We got confirmation, Dig," Felicity said into the voicemail. "I got into Blackhawk's systems. Someone's been storing detailed routes and schedules for each of the city's seven major armoured car carriers there, including the three that have already been hit. I've figured out when the next one is taking place, I'm heading to intercept it now."

She quickly hung up the phone and rushed to change into her purple leather catsuit, tugging the long trench coat on over it and tossing her bow and quiver over her shoulder, a dozen knives hidden in various places on her body. She had practiced quick changes into her outfit, and less than a minute later she was tucking her hair beneath the raven wig and adjusting the attached mask.

Her 'regular' phone rang as she was swinging her leg over the motorbike she had gotten specifically for vigilante activities (she switched the number on the licence plate weekly, and had installed several devices to help protect it from surveillance or being tracked and such). She glanced at the screen, spying Thea's face and name flashing, and winced as she recalled that it was her sister-in-law's birthday party tomorrow night.

She kicked the bike into gear as she shot off a text: _Can't talk right now. Call you back later. Love you._

A moment later Thea's reply flashed on the screen: _Call ASAP. Emergency!_

* * *

The next night, after a long day full of trying to soothe Thea's beliefs that her mother was having a longterm affair with heartless Malcolm Merlyn of all people, attending the party and then having to bail early to save Diggle, shooting Gaynor lethally and hospitalizing the others she had fought, Felicity was waiting in the basement, leaning back against the desk where she worked on her weapons, when Diggle returned from being detained by the police. She felt her chest clench as she took him in.

Physically, he was fine, but emotionally was clearly another story. His shoulders were slumped and he looked drained and grieved, as if he'd just lost a dear friend. In many ways, he had.

"How'd it go at the station?" she asked softly, moving over to the coffee maker and switching it on for him. "Cops give you a hard time?"

He shook his head, accepting the offered drink. "Nah," he denied. "I explained to them that me and Gaynor were old war buddies. He tried to rope me in..." He paused and let out a sigh, as heavy as if he were Atlas with the weight of the world on his shoulders. "When I refused, he kidnapped Carly, everything else happened under duress." He finally met her eyes. "I screwed up, Felicity. Obviously Gaynor wasn't who I thought he was. I was wrong."

Felicity hesitated, groping around for the words to comfort him. The price of being a genius was difficulty with emotions, and her time away hadn't helped either. "Diggle," she said finally. "Someone once told me, trusting a person is like handing them a knife and turning around to let them shove it into your back. When I decided to do this, I wanted to do it alone. Trust, it's...it's hard for me. I don't even trust Oliver anymore. Not fully, not anymore.

But you insisted on being my partner, and now. I trust you, Diggle. I trust your judgement, and I trust you'll be there to back me up when I need it.

Betrayal, it's never easy. Always hits where it hurts. But, you have the ability to see the best in people, John. I lost that, on the island. Don't, don't let Gaynor take that from you. You keep believing in the best of a person, and I'll keep seeing the worst, and between the two of us we'll reach a balance. Yeah?"

Unsure if she'd even made sense, let alone helped him, she offered him the List, Gaynor's name displayed on the third row. Silently, Dig accepted the book and struck an uneven line through it.

"I'm gonna go check on Carly and AJ," he said softly. "Make sure she's alright."

"Of course," Felicity agreed, watching him with concern. "Give her my best, will you?"

"Will do," he agreed gruffly, before heading for the stairs. He paused at the door, turning back to her. "Felicity?"

"Yes?"

"I don't ever want to know any of the names on that List until you're checking them off," he declared stoically.

She nodded silently, and, satisfied, he left.

Then, because the day hadn't been crappy and stressful enough, her phone buzzed with a text from Oliver. Her eyes widened when she saw it.

' _Thea in hospital. Car crash. Come ASAP.'_

* * *

When she arrived, Moira was just leaving. The older blonde had an upset expression she was trying valiantly to hide, and they simply exchanged quick greetings as they passed.

Oliver was with Thea, who seemed to be surprisingly well for someone who'd just totalled their brand-new car on their birthday.

"Thea, honey," Felicity greeted her with a kiss on the cheek, stomach twisting at the scent of alcohol hovering in the air around the now-eighteen-year-old. "How're you feeling?"

"Okay," Thea shrugged. "Car's wrecked, which sucks. But I'm okay, and Mom'll buy me a new I'm sure, trying to make up for being a lying cheater."

Felicity eyed her worriedly, concerned by Thea's anger towards her mother and the lack of distress over the whole incident. Then she saw just how blown Thea's pupils were, and the dots connected.

"Honey, I just need to talk to Oliver for a moment outside, alright," she said softly. Thea hummed tiredly, nodding lazily as Felicity tugged Oliver outside into the corridor, receiving a bemused look from him.

"Oliver, we have a problem," she informed her son's father, expression tight.

"My sister's in hospital and convinced my mother is having an affair, I agree that it's definitely a problem," he huffed, raking a hand through his cropped hair, face pinched. Felicity shook her head.

"No, not that. And we'll talk about the whole affair thing later. But, Oliver, Thea is _baked_." Oliver stares at her a moment, a look of confusion forming, as if he couldn't comprehend the slang. "She's high, Oliver. As a kite on a windy day."

" _What?_ " he finally asked, frowning deeply. He shook his head. "No, she wouldn't. She promised that she was done. She wouldn't."

Felicity hated to be the one causing him hurt, especially given the grief he'd already gone through on her account, but she knew there was no other option. He had to know before the police arrived. "Don't you think that it's that she's not really upset about wrecking her car?" Felicity pointed out. "A car that she's been wanting for months, I might add. Then there's the foggy look, the glazed eyes, the pupils that are about the same size as plates? That's a high if ever I've seen one. And you know I've seen a lot of highs, Oliver. Hell, some of them were yours."

Not that his playboy antics had lasted long after they'd met.

"Fuck," he groaned, dropping his head into his hands, the picture of frustrated despair.

"And that's the bad news," Felicity continued reluctantly. "Hate to tell you all of this shit, but there's more."

He winced at that, daring to look at her with a wary expression. "How much worse?" he asked warily.

"Any time there's an accident like this and someone comes in with injuries, they run a panel on the driver's blood," she explained glumly. He paled, and Felicity knew he had realized, same as her, what was going to happen. "They'll run blood alcohol levels too, but, chances are, she'll pop positive on whatever she's taken. From the smell, she'll probably show up positive for being an underage drinker, too. And then the hospital will be legally required to alert the police, and they'll arrest her."

He scrubbed at his face, looking exhausted. If it were six years ago, she'd have kissed him to soothe his stress away, but now she simply rested a hand on his upper-arm, rubbing it gently.

"Could you tell Thea?" he asked finally. "She'll take it better from you."

"Of course," she agreed. "Hey," she said softly, waiting until his eyes met hers. "it's going to be all right. I know you don't think so, but things _will_ work out."

"I hope you're right," he replied softly. "It seems like everything's going to hell. I thought when you came home-" He cut himself off with a tired sigh. She stayed silent, continuing to rub his arm comfortingly until Thea called to them.

"Hey, if the two of you are done acting like the old married couple you are, I wanna go now! This place is _sssooo_ boring."

Felicity practically jumped away from Oliver, attention once again on the younger girl. Oliver avoided her gaze, instead sending his sister a reproving look as Felicity took a seat beside Thea on her hospital bed, waving Oliver out of the room to wait for them in the hall.

"Hey," she said carefully. "There's something we need to talk about." Thea went on her guard immediately, but Felicity ignored it. "In a crash like this, Thea, the hospital will test for drugs and alcohol, and they'll have to report that result to the police. Long story short, you're most likely going to be arrested, and spend the night in a holding cell seeing as the court's closed for the night by now."

Thea paled, but before she could reply, Oliver opened the door. "An Officer Cartwright is outside," he announced quietly, looking as if he were debating the merits of rushing his sister out of the room, or attacking the officer or whatever other ideas were running through his mind.

Felicity rose and put her hands on Thea's shoulders. "Look, it's not going to be nice," she admitted frankly. "But they won't move you until you've had a hearing. So you'll be in lockup in the SCPD building. It's not going to be the best thing that ever happened to you, but it's better than Iron Heights." She hugged her tightly, and Thea buried herself in Felicity's arms the way she had done when she was a little girl coming for comfort after a nightmare.

"Is it wrong that I'm scared?" Thea asked, voice muffled by Felicity's shoulder.

Reluctantly, Felicity released the other girl and straightened her up a bit. "I'd be worried if you weren't," she replied frankly. "It would mean you're not taking this as seriously as it should be. But everything's going to be okay, Thea. I promise. Chin up, sweetheart."

Thea nodded shakily, lifting her chin and pasting on a mask of calmness as they entered the hallway, where a dark-skinned cop stepped forward, holding out his handcuffs.

"Thea Queen, you are under arrest for driving under the influence and possession of an illegal substance," he stated gravely, his words making Oliver groan as if he were in physical pain as Thea was handcuffed, her hands shaking slightly.

Felicity watched helplessly, wrapping herself around Oliver's arm to try and comfort them both.


	9. (The) Count

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity reconnects with Lance and gets some shocking news from Oliver

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow. I'm glad this is so well received.**

**To the guest who said that they didn't think they could keep reading because it was too close to canon, that's fine. If you don't enjoy it, don't read, fanfics are for pleasure so you shouldn't bother with ones you don't like. But this is less about changing episodes and more about the relationships between the characters for me.**

**But one not positive review out of all of them is great! I'm glad the majority enjoy it. The flashback in this chapter shows a small deviation in Felicity's time on the island. Mostly it was quite like Oliver's time there, but there are small differences. There's also a bit that came from a deleted scene from the Vertigo episode.**

**Read, enjoy and review!**

**Chapter Nine**

**(Count) Vertigo**

Felicity followed the fleeing drug dealer almost lazily, casually swinging from one fire escape to the next, intentionally making clangs as she landed in order to heighten his fear. When in ARGUS, she'd learned how to torment a person psychologically too, not just physically, and right now she was putting that training to full use.

Finally, she decided he was panicked enough and she cornered him, soon aiming an arrow at his terrified face while he dangled by his feet from a bridge.

"Hey, I'm just tryin' ta make an honest living here!" the guy cried, shaking in terror.

"There's nothing honest about what you do!" she snarled back, releasing the arrow so it skimmed his leg, making him cry out in terror. Thoughts of Thea's fright as she was arrested kept Felicity from caring, though.

God, how Felicity hated drugs. She'd always hated them, but ever since Waller had dropped her back on Lian Yu for the second go around, and Reiter had captured her and made her one of his slaves, she had developed a special hatred for them.

Sure, his real target had been the Idol, but the drugs had been a key part of it too, and Felicity now associated drugs of any sort with that particular period of hell. Likely she would have turned her attention to the new plague setting the Glades on fire either way, but she hadn't heard about it until the incident with Thea.

"Who supplies you with Vertigo?" she demanded, aiming another arrow at the dealer. "Tell me now and you live."

"Please!" he begged. "They'll kill me!"

She released the second arrow, making it skim his cheek and draw a thin line of blood. He wailed in fear.

"Whoever you fear... Fear me more!"

"Okay, okay!" the dealer sobbed, giving into his fear. "We call him The Count, that's all I know. I swear to God!"

He screwed up his face, eyes shut tightly in fear of her unleashing her temper on him. Felicity, however, turned on her heel and fired another rappelling arrow, zipping away and ignoring his call for her to let him down.

/

She returned to the base where Dig was waiting for her.

"Find what you're looking for?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Took down three Vertigo pushers tonight, Diggle," she informed him as she began restocking her depleted supply of arrows. "Last one finally knew a name. The Count."

"The Count?" he scoffed. "That's worse than The Archer." he frowned and came closer to her. "You're not going back out there again."

"I'm not done for the night," she insisted. "Whoever this Count is, he has a lot of blood on his hands, and it is long past time he started paying."

"Well, slow down, I think you're missing the point here," Dig pressed.

Felicity frowned at him in confusion, wondering what could possibly be more important than finding the Count and taking him down. For now he was the city's sole supplier, but if she didn't act quick enough, others could figure out the formula, and then it would be impossible to put a stop to the shit's production and spread. "What?" she asked in bemusement. Then the time dawned on her and her eyes widened in understanding. "Thea." She snapped her eyes shut tightly and put the bow back down.

"Her hearing's in a few hours," Dig confirmed. "You think she cares more about some drug lord getting his just desserts, or her best friend and sister-in-law being by her side when she needs you the most?"

"I think that you've made your point," Felicity sighed. "I'm going."

* * *

Thea was staring sightlessly into the mirror on her dresser when Oliver stepped inside her bedroom to collect her for the hearing.

"Hey, we should get going," he urged her gently. "Judges don't appreciate the value in being fashionably late."

She chuckled bitterly at that before asking him, "Got any other tips?"

He exhaled, stepping closer to her and pulling her to his side. "Let the lawyer do all the talking," he instructed her gently. Then he went, joking a bit to try and lighten the heavy mood. "They'll give you a pad and paper but do _not_ play tic tac toe. Judges don't appreciate that, either."

She cracked a small smile for a moment before it disappeared again.

"Come on, Speedy," he urged her gently.

"I know, I know," she sniffed, blue eyes wide. She looked like she had when she was six and came to him with skinned knees, or when she'd caught chicken pox as a toddler, pleading for him to make everything better for her. His heart ached for her. "I keep on trying to get up and go, but... I just don't. I wish Dad were here."

"I'm here," Oliver offered gently, even though he knew that it was a small comfort. Robert Queen had had his flaws, but being a bad parent had never been one of them. Too loving perhaps, not setting enough boundaries, but he'd done his best, doted on his little princess especially. "And Felicity texted. She'll meet us at the courthouse."

Thea nodded, curling into him for a hug as their mother arrived at the door, looking strained. "We should leave now, Thea," she stated gravely, subtle frown lines pulling at the edges of her mouth.

/

As promised, Felicity was waiting for them when they arrived at the courthouse, the mask of false serenity that Oliver had become used to her wearing hiding her emotions. From most, anyway. Oliver could see the worry and tiredness she covered with a smile that failed to reach her eyes and copious amounts of lipstick.

That was one thing that had never changed, at least. She still wore her trademark fuchsia lipstick, even if she had toned down her outfits that had previously been a rainbow of bright colours. Her attempts to blend in would always be a failure, however. And not because of the scar curving around her eye from when her glasses had broken in the wreck. She was good at covering that up with make-up and by styling her hair a certain way. But Felicity stood out. She always had. There was just something about her that drew people's eyes.

At least, it had always been that way for him, at any rate.

They pushed their way through the reporters shoving microphones in their faces and calling out questions, at last arriving at the top of the steps where Felicity waited patiently.

"Hey, sweetheart," she greeted Thea first, pulling her into a hug. "How are you feeling?"

Thea shrugged, leaning into Felicity's embrace as if the older woman could protect her from the world. "I'm fine," she mumbled. "Just want this whole thing over with."

"Fair enough," Felicity agreed, releasing her and taking a step back. "Let's go in, then."

Thea nodded, putting on a brave face as she strode ahead with confident steps that concealed her nerves from anyone except for her family, while Felicity fell into step beside Oliver. "Will at school?" she murmured questioningly to him.

"Yeah," he confirmed, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. "Raisa dropped him. You look exhausted." She had covered it up with concealer, but he could spot the dark smudges beneath the cover-up, and the general air of tiredness hovering around her.

Though, to be truthful, she was rarely not tired nowadays, despite her efforts to hide it. He wondered if she was still suffering from nightmares the way she had at the mansion. She wasn't attending therapy and he worried. As far as he could tell, she was acting as if she'd never spent five years stranded alone on a desert island, and it worried him. He himself had (admittedly with great reluctance) gone to therapy after the boat went down, and he had learned that suppressing your feelings really didn't help. It only worsened things.

"You sure know how to flatter a woman, Queen," she replied dryly. "I didn't sleep well."

He hummed, frowning slightly. The nagging suspicion that she was keeping secrets, dangerous secrets, tugged at his mind yet again. The pieces kept trying to put themselves together, but he kept shying away. Some instinct warned him that his world would be forever changed if he learned what she was doing whenever she dropped off the grid, and he didn't think he was ready for that. At least she'd stopped ditching the bodyguard.

To think, he'd thought, on learning that Felicity was alive and coming back home to their family, that things would improve. Instead, his relationship with Laurel (admittedly already heading for burnout) had finally imploded, his mother was hiding something, his stepfather had gone missing and now his sister was on trial for drug use. Not that Felicity was remotely to blame for any of it, even the break-up.

But selfishly, he had to acknowledge that he would go through the past few months all over again so long as she was back, even if it was a scarred, angry and distant version of his wife who refused to confide in him and seemed to have become oddly close to the bodyguard she had been so annoyed about having. Oliver had always been terribly jealous of pretty much any other man so much as breathing the same air as Felicity, dreading the day she got fed up and realized how much better she could do than him. He felt that jealousy flicker in his chest whenever he saw the pair whispering together in a corner, or else noticed how Felicity didn't automatically tense when Diggle walked up to her or reached out unexpectedly.

But she hadn't brought up the subject of their marriage, whether she wanted a reconciliation or a divorce, so what did it mean? She had changed so much, it was almost impossible to read her.

His brooding was interrupted by their entrance to the courtroom. Thea and the lawyer took their places, with himself, Felicity and his mother all sitting in the first row.

"All rise for the Honourable Judge Brackett!" the bailiff ordered loudly. "Docket ending 1-10-5-6, People vs. Thea Dearden Queen. Charges are possession of a controlled substance and driving under the influence of a controlled substance, as well as driving under the influence of alcohol."

The judge gestured for them to sit down, scanning his documents briskly. "Counsellors, I understand you've reached a plea agreement," he stated coolly. Oliver found himself grasping Felicity's hand for comfort, grimly aware of the lack of sympathy or kindness towards his sister on Brackett's expression. She squeezed his hand softly as Thea's lawyer responded.

"We have, Your Honour," the lawyer, Mr. Ryker, confirmed. "Given that my client is a juvenile, the people have generously agreed to probation."

"Juvenile?" Brackett repeated. "Says right here she's eighteen."

"She is eighteen now, Your Honour," Ryker agreed. "but at the time of arrest, she was still two days shy of her eighteenth birthday. Ms. Queen has no priors."

"Well," Brackett answered icily, his tone making Oliver's heart sink to his stomach in dismay. "Just because Ms. Queen's family sweeps her priors under the rug, doesn't mean they don't exist. You get your client off, and you help your boss avoid dealing with the drug that's sweeping across our city like the plague. Everyone wins, except us, the people of Starling City."

"Your Honour," Ryker began. "With all due respect-"

The judge cut him off. "Ms. Queen, like it or not, you are now the poster child for this menace. Maybe if people see that the Queen family can't get away with using Vertigo, they'll think twice before using it themselves. The plea arrangement is denied." He paused and banged his gavel with an air of finality. "This case will proceed to trial."

Thea twisted to look at them, eyes wide as plates and face pale as their bedsheets.

"Well, fuck," Felicity whispered beneath her breath, jaw tight.

* * *

Later that day, Felicity entered the SCPD clutching two coffees and asking for Detective Lance.

"Felicity!" he called in greeting, giving her a warm smile that made her stomach twist in guilt. He shouldn't care about her, he should hate her. Sara should've never set foot on that cursed boat. If only Felicity hadn't asked Sara to come, had been able to save her from Slade's grief-driven wrath.

Instead, Sara had spent the last two years of her life terrified and tormented by Ivo, and died in Felicity's place. Felicity would never, _could_ never, forgive herself for that.

"Good to see you, Sweetheart," Lance told her warmly. "Been a while."

Not as long as he believed, given their encounters with her under the mask, but she smiled at him as brightly as she could.

"Sorry, Detective," she apologized, extending the coffee to him. He accepted it gratefully. "I've been so busy, reconnecting with Will, working at QC and setting up SmoakTech."

"Sure," Lance said, cocking an eyebrow at her sceptically as they began walking outside the precinct for some fraction of privacy. "Got nothing to do with feeling awkward about Laurel and Queen breaking up right after you got back? Or Sara? And how many times do I gotta tell you to call me Quentin, huh? Family shouldn't be formal with each other, I've told you that."

She flushed and glanced at the ground sheepishly. He seemed able to see right through her. She supposed that she should be grateful she wore a mask and wig when she met him as the vigilante.

"Felicity, sweetheart, look at me," Lance ordered, catching her gently and tugging her to look at him. Reluctantly, she met his gaze. "I don't blame you for anything," he insisted softly. "You're like another daughter to me. Have been since Sara brought you home for the holidays when you were a kid and didn't have anyone to spend Hanukkah with. One of the best and worst days of my life was when I walked you down the aisle to marry Queen. I was so proud, and so happy that you thought of me for that honour, even if it felt like I was losing one of my daughters.

Still think you and Laurel have godawful taste, though. He's never been worth either of you."

She swallowed thickly and wrapped him in a grateful hug. She'd been nervous as hell to ask him to give her away, but by then she'd known him for several years, and he had always been there for her, from the moment Sara had dragged her back to the Lances' house during winter vacation from their shared school that the two of them were attending on scholarships, bonding over the discomfort of being two girls wearing hand-me-downs in a school of 1. Sara and Laurel had gotten in because Dinah Lance taught there, while Felicity had been given a test by her social worker that gained her a place, skipping two age grades as well. Sara had come up to Felicity on her first day, declared that she was cute, and they'd never looked back. And when Sara had embraced her as family, so had Quentin, though Laurel had always been distant at best, and then downright hostile after Felicity and Oliver had gotten together. Dinah had always been kind, but Felicity had never felt as comfortable with her as she did with Quentin.

Maybe because, while her father had walked out when she was a kid and so Felicity had sworn she'd never waste her breath missing him, leaving the position of surrogate father wide open, Donna Smoak had been a loving mother up until her death in the crossfire of a convenience store robbery gone wrong, and so Felicity had always felt she would be betraying her mom if she got too close to any maternal figures.

"So," Lance said when they ended the embrace, thankfully not mentioning the shininess of her eyes. "What caused you to break your self-imposed exile and come to see me?"

Felicity chewed her bottom lip for a second, gathering herself before getting down to the reason for her arrival. "It's Thea."

Lance sighed, frowning. "The law's the law, Lissy," he reminded her. "She broke it. Just 'cause she's rich, doesn't mean that she should get out of consequences. Nothing I can do, I'm sorry."

"You got Sara out of those shoplifting charges that time when she was sixteen," Felicity reminded him. "Got me out of hacking charges too. You really can't talk to Judge Brackett, convince him not to be so hard on her? I'm not saying to let her completely off the hook. I agree that she needs punishment. But jail? She's just turned eighteen, Quentin. She doesn't deserve that. She's already lost her dad, now her stepfather is missing. She's a hurting girl trying to forget her pain, not some career criminal wanting to fuck up her body for the hell of it. Please."

Lance pursed his lips tightly before letting out a heavy sigh. "Fine," he agreed grudgingly. "I'll make a few calls, see what I can do. For you."

"Thank you," she breathed, embracing him again. "Thank you so much."

"Just promise you won't disappear on me again," he muttered into her hair. "I lost two daughters when that fucking boat went down, but God gave me back my youngest. I'd like to have her back in my life instead of just my city, okay?"

"Okay," she muttered with stinging eyes, earning a tighter squeeze and a kiss to the top of her blonde hair.

* * *

"I've seen a fair amount of Cyrillic back in Afghanistan left over by the Soviets," Diggle stated, frowning suspiciously as they entered the warehouse the next day. "Is this Russian owned?"

"This is the not so hidden headquarters for the Starling City chapter of the Bratva," Felicity explained, making his eyebrows rise to the top of his forehead. She paused, turning to look at him with the utmost seriousness. "Diggle...," she said. "Whatever I say, whatever goes down, just go with it. Please. Trust me." He stared at her for a second, confused and made wary by it, but after a moment he nodded firmly.

Just then, Alexei and one of his henchmen, a different one from last time, strode up to her. She gave him a false smile, deliberately cold.

"Zdravstvuyte (hello)," the Russian mobster greeted her, his own smile just as icy. "Good to see you. Long time. Particularly for Bratva captain."

Felicity shrugged innocently. "I was trying to figure out where to invest my fortune," she said off-handedly. "My husband makes a decent amount, but I want a more, _secure_ , source of income. Especially given our current separation." No point in hiding it, given the Queens and private lives didn't exactly mix. There had been gossip and speculation filling the tabloids from the start about what was going to happen with her and Oliver's romantic relationship, and that they were living apart was a hot topic. It was something she'd always hated about being with him, the lack of privacy.

"I understand," Alexei nodded. "And I take it you have come to a decision?"

She gave a mild nod. "I decided on pharmaceuticals," she explained. "And I don't mean aspirin."

Alexei smirked and nodded at her. "A wise choice," he acknowledged. "Mepheodrone would be a good investment for you. It's the newest thing."

"I was thinking Vertigo," Felicity replied, a hint of challenge entering her cold tone. "Newer thing."

"Tough market, Vertigo," Alexei stated, expression hardening. "Only one seller."

"I know," Felicity nodded. "That's why I want in. Get ahead of the game while it's still worth something. I was hoping you could do me a favour and arrange a meeting."

"He is difficult man," Alexei warned her. "And he does not like new friends."

She turned to Diggle, taking the slim file containing the information she had hacked out of the SCPD servers and in turn giving it to her Bratva 'colleague', quote unquote.

"This is everything the police have on him," she informed him. "Tell him it's a gift."

"I will see what I can do," Alexei replied as he handed off the file and gestured at one of his goons. "Provided you do favour for me."

"Vse chto ugodno (anything)," Felicity promised evenly.

"It is unusual for a woman to hold such a position of esteem in our organization, Mrs. Queen. In fact, you are the sole female who holds such a title. And you are a young _American_ woman, at that. Youngest person to reach the rank. Even rarer. Anatoli Knyazev speaks very highly of you."

"He should," Felicity replied composedly, knowing that every word he said was the truth. "I saved his life." Just then, a bloodied man was dragged forward and tossed at her feet. She glanced at him with an air of disinterest. "What did he do?"

"Something I told him not to," Alexei shrugged. "Now the favour. Kill this man for me, and I will believe your interest in our organization is genuine. And then I will arrange a meeting with The Count."

Felicity gazed at the trembling man with a calculating expression as Diggle hissed at her in alarm. "Felicity..."

She ignored him, stepping forward and grabbing the man by the neck. She paused a moment to throw her mind back nearly a half-dozen years, recalling how Yao Fei had faked killing her, then repeated the action and released the unconscious, seemingly dead, man, causing the body to slump to the floor.

Alexei chuckled and complimented her skill in Russian.

She shrugged and gave a bland smile. "What are friends for?"

Dig refused to help her lift the body, so Felicity had to haul it over her shoulder in a fireman's carry, bringing it out to the car to toss in the trunk. The guy was heavy, but Felicity was strong, and the distance short. She'd completed harder tasks.

"I can't believe you just killed that guy!" Dig exclaimed. "What the fuck, Felicity? I never would've thought you'd do that!"

She rolled her eyes, waving him off. "Don't be dramatic, Dig. I don't kill people for no reason, and being stupid enough to piss off a mobster isn't worth the death penalty."

"But you-" he began, only to fall silent in surprise when she reached out to press the man's pressure point, making him gasp dramatically as he was jolted back to consciousness and stared around in shock. Felicity promptly punched and knocked him out again, this time obviously alive, while Dig gaped appreciatively.

"Whoa!" he exclaimed. "That's a neat trick. You going to teach me that one day?"

She nearly refused, then re-considered. "It might come in handy for you at some point," she conceded, making him grin. Then he frowned as she snapped the trunk lid shut again. "What are you doing?"

"You need to arrange a new identity for this guy," she instructed her partner. "Get him out of the city. And warn him not to be an idiot and piss off any other mobsters."

Diggle nodded. "Right, so your Ruskie pal draws out The Count, then the vigilante takes him down."

"No, Diggle," she denied. "Because then the Bratva would know that I used them, and that relationship is too valuable. I do the meet with The Count as myself, in a wig and contacts just in case, let him leave, and then we follow him to his hideout."

"Just that easy, huh?" he asked dryly.

She gave him a bright smile, full of mischief. "Well, I will still need my trusty bodyguard," she pointed out as she climbed into the car. "After all, I'm a helpless woman who might need protecting."

They both scoffed in cynical amusement at that.

"Fantastic," Dig grumbled as he ducked into the driver's seat. "Looking forward to my new and exciting career as a drug dealer."

"On the bright side," she told him cheerily. "I hear it pays way better than babysitting. Excuse me, private security."

/

After she got the call from Alexei confirming that "the Count" was willing to meet with her, she went to the bank where she stored (one of) her caches of money. She didn't really like to use any of it if avoidable. Some she'd gotten from working for ARGUS (apparently being an unwilling 'employee' still entitled her to the massive pay given to ARGUS agents. It was a way higher wage than any other government agents received. Felicity suspected that it was part hush money, to keep ARGUS' 'methods' being revealed.). Some had come from her draining the lush accounts of the men she'd taken down while away, Fyers, Ivo, Reiter and Kovar. She'd have drained Shrieve too, but Waller had gotten to his accounts first. She didn't like using any of those especially, it felt dirty, but she would if she had to. The last bit came from gambling. Not that it was actually gambling when _she_ did it, of course.

"So, Marine," she smiled at the accountant (whom she had thoroughly checked out before Felicity had consented to her being placed in the position.) in charge of her money. "How're the dance classes going?"

"Very good," Marine replied as she unlocked the metal door. "It's so kind of you to always remember, Mrs. Queen."

"Oh, I love dancing," Felicity replied lightly, trying not to dwell on nights with Sara, before their worlds went down in a watery crash, dancing and laughing together in the happiness of innocence.

Marine smiled. "Well, here you go," she said. "Just call when you're done."

"Will do," Felicity agreed as the brunette woman strode out briskly.

John's mouth dropped as he stared around the room at the bundles of cash stacked on the shelves that filled the room. "Is all of this yours?" he asked incredulously.

"Uh-huh," Felicity confirmed distractedly, handing him a bag. "In this bank, anyway. I don't keep all of it together. And I prefer it solid, just in case the bank's hacked. Too risky. Here, fill this," she instructed him.

"Okay," Dig sighed, obeying.

"This reminds me," Felicity stated as she shoved handfuls of dollars into the bag. "I have to give you your account number."

"My what?"

"The number of the account I set up for you in the Cayman's," Felicity explained.

"You set up an off-shore account for me?" Dig clarified incredulously.

"Yeah," Felicity confirmed. "Just in case, you know? It's got a million in it. I'll give you the number when we're done."

"Where'd you get all of this cash?" Dig wondered. "You can't've gotten it from the Queens."

"None of it came from them, no," Felicity agreed, tensing. She hesitated, then forced herself to elaborate, knowing that he deserved her gesture of faith. "Some's from gambling. Not that it's gambling if I'm the one doing it. The rest is from ARGUS or people I've taken down. Seems fitting that they pay to help clean up the city."

"And ARGUS?" he pressed, but that was too much.

"Another time," she muttered. "We've got a mission for the moment, remember?"

* * *

_**Lian Yu: 2007** _

_Despite Slade's reluctance, Felicity hadn't been able to, in good conscious, abandon Yao Fei. Not when he was the only reason she was alive, and when his hints had made her suspect he was working for Fyers under duress._

" _They have something on him," Slade had mused as they planned out what to do. "It's the only explanation for why he's suddenly decided to help them."_

_That was when understanding had dawned on Felicity, as she suddenly recalled Yao Fei's response when he had seen the photo of Oliver and William in her locket._

' _I have daughter. Two. Shado and Mei.'_

" _Or else," she'd muttered darkly to Slade. "They have some_ _ **one**_ _on him. Yao Fei told me he has two daughters."_

_Slade, the father of a son named Joe, had understood then, in a way that only parents who loved their children could. When a parent loved their child, and that child was in danger, there was nothing they wouldn't do to put an end to that threat._

_So, they had come up with a plan to infiltrate the camp and break out the Gulongs. Felicity had built a bomb out of supplies Slade had produced (she didn't ask where from), and they had planted it in one of the weapons caches. Slade had thrown a lighter, and the resulting fireworks would've put a Fourth of July display to shame. Then Slade had attacked the soldiers who came running while Felicity slipped into the tent area. They'd calculated that was where Yao Fei's daughter (or possibly both of them) had been kept, as there were no women being kept in the bamboo cages now that Felicity had gotten away._

_She found the young woman tied to a post in a tent, dressed in only a tank top and grey cargo pants, an angry glare on her lovely face. It was easy to tell which was the right tent. It was the only one still being guarded. Felicity managed, as much to her own surprise as the guard's, to take him out, using a mixture of the kickboxing lessons Quentin had urged her to take alongside his daughters, and the moves that Slade had spent the past, well, she didn't actually know how long it had been, teaching her. She couldn't bring herself to kill him, though. She simply slammed the hilt of her knife into the side of his head, knocking him unconscious._

_Then she ducked inside the tent, seeing the woman, a little older than her, straining against her bonds._

" _Are you Shado or Mei?" Felicity asked hurriedly, moving closer but staying slightly out of reach, just in case. "And is your sister here too?"_

_The Chinese woman narrowed her dark eyes at Felicity in suspicion before replying. "I am Shado. No, Mei is not here. Who are you?"_

" _Felicity," she answered quickly, going around to Shado's back to cut the bonds. "Your father saved my life. Multiple times, actually. We realized that Fyers must've caught at least one of you, and that was how he was making Yao Fei cooperate, so we decided to break you guys out. Or try, at least. Our chances aren't very good, unfortunately. Then again, nobody has good chances on this godforsaken hellhole. There, you're good. I hope you're as a good a fighter as your dad, because God knows it's never been my thing, and there're about a hundred men here. Slade, that's the other person on our side, or rather against Fyers, is fighting them but he's got a sword and a machine gun against a hundred guns, so I don't like our chances very much. There are times when I really hate being good at math, and this is one of them."_

" _You talk a lot," Shado noted, a small smirk on her lips as she accepted the spare knife Felicity offered her, scooping up the unconscious guard's gun as they went._

" _That's what they say," Felicity agreed. Shado chuckled, before turning serious._

" _I can fight," she promised, quickly proving herself right when they came upon the nearest soldier._

_An hour later, the three of them, Felicity, Shado and Slade, had all escaped again, fleeing back to the shelter Slade had made._

_But Yao Fei had died taking a bullet meant for his daughter, and Shado burned for vengeance as she explained what she knew of Fyers' plan to them._

_They all knew their chances were abysmal, but what other choice did they have? God knew how many people would be on that plane. They had to at least_ _**try** _ _to stop Fyers from shooting it down._

" _If you get me to the missile launcher, I can reprogram it," Felicity swore._

_Slade gave a sharp nod. "Fine," he agreed. "But you're gonna need to sharpen those skills of yours, Barbie. We're gonna need you to help us fight our way to the launcher."_

_Shado leaned forward. "I saw how you took down the guard," she stated. "You were taught by men, who all fight like men and showed you how do so. But you are a woman. Do you want to learn how to fight like one?"_

_Felicity, who was sick to death of being helpless, of needing to be saved, met the other woman's brown eyes. And nodded._

" _Show me."_

* * *

Felicity hit the punching bag mechanically, self-hatred raging through her body. She hadn't bothered to wrap her hands, craving the harsh leather of the bag cutting into her skin.

It hadn't been intentional, overdosing the Count. The lingering effects of her own overdose (and thank God she'd had the foresight to put on a brunette wig and contacts for the meet, otherwise the cops might've been able to ID her when they arrived.) had put her off-balance, and the Count, despite his obvious lack of training, had managed to get the jump on her for a second. She'd grabbed the nearest possible weapon and stabbed it straight into his neck, automatically pressing the plunger.

Had the police not burst through just then, she'd have given him the entire, lethal, dose. And, worst of all, she didn't regret her actions. Not really. That was the reason for her anger.

God, how she _despised_ drugs. And she hated drug lords, who brought memories of Reiter and Conklin to mind, even more. Sure, it had turned out that Reiter was out for more than just drugs, but he'd still been neck-deep in the business.

If she were a man, she could have infiltrated Reiter's encampment as a guard. But she wasn't, and so she'd had to be a slave instead. But she'd also required the information, and she'd realized quickly that her scars didn't turn Conklin off. On the contrary, he had a fetish for them.

Psychotic fucker. Killing him had been one of the rare cases that she was happy to kill a person.

But the anger that had gripped her earlier that night...

God, there were days when she didn't know what, if anything, was left of her soul nowadays. Days when she thought Shado had been wrong, all those years ago. The darkness of her soul _did_ outweigh the light. There was no balance at all. Not truly. Felicity was kidding herself if she thought she was remotely functional. She ought to do the world a favour, disappear into the shadows and protect her family and Starling from within the dark, where she belonged far more than she did to the light and normality.

Felicity was soaked with sweat when the sound of the buzzer going off startled her from her self-flagellation, making her jolt. Grabbing a towel to pat herself dry, she headed for the front door and peered out the keyhole, eyebrow rising in surprise at the sight of Oliver. She pulled it open, cocking her head in silent question and ignoring how he dragged his gaze up and down her toned body.

"Oliver," she greeted him, suppressing her unhappiness. "Is everything okay? What're you doing here?"

"If this is a bad time," he began, only for her to wave him off.

"No, it's fine. Come in. Just gimme a few moments to wash up and change?"

"Of course," he agreed politely.

She fought a frown at how stilted he was acting, his shoulders rigid. Something was definitely bothering him.

"Well, just make yourself comfortable," she urged him, before hurrying to her bathroom to race through a shower and pulling on a pair of drawstring pants and a tank top, realizing too late that the shirt would let him see some of the scars and tattoos that marred her body. She hesitated, but she had already returned to the living room and he had turned to look at her. She bit the inside of her cheek and made her way over to his side, sitting beside him on the couch and accepting the glass of Coke he'd offered her. She suspected that he'd probably looked for alcohol, but he wouldn't find any in her apartment, at any rate.

"What's going on, Oliver?" she asked him gently, reaching out to rest her hand on his knee gently. "Is it Thea? I thought her plea arrangement was accepted?"

"It was," Oliver confirmed. "500 hours of community service that she'll be serving at Tommy's mother's clinic, and two years of probation, no driving allowed in that time."

"That's good, isn't it?" she coaxed, relief flooding her to hear the details confirmed by him.

"Yes, yes it definitely is," he agreed, staring at his own Coke. "I'm, uh, I'm here about something else."

"Okay," she said softly. "What?"

He swallowed and finally looked at her. "It's about Walter," he confessed. "I think I know why he was kidnapped."

Felicity went stiff, eyes widening. "What?" she gasped. "Have you told the police? Or those PIs that you hired?"

He shook his head, putting aside the drink and rising in order to pace, tense as a wild animal. It all came spilling out then, the 2.6 million invested in a non-existent company by his mother, the warehouse with the mysterious contents that had alarmed Walter so much, the suspicious death of the man sent to move said contents.

And then, he removed the notebook and passed it to her. She couldn't stop herself inhaling sharply as she took it with a hand that shook slightly.

"Have you seen this before?" Oliver asked her, his brow furrowed.

She cleared her throat, flipping through the pages. As she'd suspected, the list of names was as identical as the cover. The only differences between them was that the one Oliver had just given to her hadn't travelled half-the-globe, and was almost pristine as a result. And none of the names had lines struck through them.

"No, I've never seen this book before," she stated, which wasn't quite a lie. She had never seen _this_ copy of the List, at any rate. "What, uh, what is it? Where did you get it?"

"I got it from Walter," Oliver admitted, studying her carefully as she tried to cover her reactions. "I don't know what it is. A list of names. But a bunch of them were attacked by the vigilante. And they were written in invisible ink. It was a complete accident that we figured out how to read it in the first place."

She nodded shakily, finally dragging her gaze away to look at her husband. "And where'd Walter get it from?"

"From Mom," Oliver admitted miserably, while Felicity's breath caught. "I don't-something's going on with her, Lissy. She's-she's hiding something, and I think it, I think this book, got Walter kil-kidnapped."


	10. The Ones Who Pull the Trigger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity learns of a betrayal

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow. As usual, thanks to everyone, I'm delighted you're enjoying this. No Cyrus Vanch in this one, just Felicity finding out the boat was sabotaged. Read, enjoy and review! BTW Aichmophobia is the fear of pointy objects.**

**Chapter Ten**

**Sometimes the People You'd Take a Bullet For Are the Ones Who Pull the Trigger**

"So this book contains a copy of the list of the names of the guys you've been hunting," Diggle summed things up, holding up the book Oliver had given her.

If she hadn't just handed it to him, Felicity might have thought he was holding up her own copy of The List. "It's identical," she confirmed succinctly, flipping a lock of hair over her shoulder irritably. Her stomach was busy twisting itself into knots, her head pounding.

God, she was exhausted. She hoped she wasn't heading for burn-out already. It was much too soon for that, even taking into account the fact that she'd spent the past six years in one fight or another. She didn't have time for a mental breakdown when she had a city to save and a son to raise. Not to mention setting up Smoak Tech (only about three or four weeks were left until its' opening) and finishing up her projects for QC.

"Where did Moira Queen get a copy of it?" Dig wondered. "And more importantly, how did _you_ get your hands on it?"

"From Oliver," Felicity explained, going on to tell her partner the rest of the encounter with her sort-of-ex-husband. (She really needed to figure out what was going on with them. But while it seemed smarter to cut him loose, she couldn't bring herself to contemplate the possibility of it. She loved him too much for that.)

"So, Walter Steele had it. Walter Steele, who is now missing."

The ' _and is now presumed dead'_ , was silent, but it seemed to echo in the dark, open room that was their base of operations.

"I know," Felicity grumbled, reaching up to rub her temples with the tips of her fingers. "I _know_ Dig. But I can't go after her. I-"

"Felicity, I know that you and Moira are close," he cut her off. "But I tend to think the innocent party is the one who's missing… or presumed dead."

She shot him an irritated look. "Do you think I'm some stupid naïve little girl who thinks the best of everyone?" she scoffed at him. "I'm not an idiot, Dig. I agree, it's very suspicious. But, for several reasons I can't go and confront her yet. Note the _yet_ , please."

Not at all, if she could avoid it. But wasn't whole reason all of this had started because of Robert's dirty business dealings? And while she loved Moira like another mother, she was much more capable of seeing the woman's flaws than Oliver was. Moira had a ruthless, cunning streak, and she'd do anything to protect her family and their power.

Dig nodded grudgingly at her, crossing his arms and waving her on expectantly. Felicity paced as she spoke, rubbing her forefinger and thumb together as if she were holding her bow. She'd noticed she had developed that habit. She should probably try to break it. Habits were bad for you.

"Firstly, you know my rule," she began. "I need genuine evidence to go after somebody. Doesn't have to be admissible in court, just to be solid proof they're involved in something illegal. I won't risk going after an innocent person.

Right now, all we have on Moira, whom I've known since I was sixteen and has always been the soul of kindness to me, my son's grandmother, is a missing husband and a book that at least three other people, counting us and possibly and probably more, have access to. That's not enough, Diggle. I won't allow that sort of precedent to be set. Understood?"

"Okay," Dig acquiesced grudgingly, though she knew he agreed with her that they should always have proof of wrongdoing, and not just because it let the cops arrest their targets once Felicity was done terrorizing them. "I get it. What's the other reason, though?"

"Oliver is _not_ an idiot, despite some of the stunts he pulled back in his younger years," Felicity sighed. "What do you think he's going to think, when the vigilante attacks his mother asking about her missing husband and the List, right after he spoke to me about it? He knows that I'm hiding something, and he's perfectly capable of putting two and two together to make four. It could compromise our entire operation." She had no idea what he would do in that scenario. Oliver was a moral person, and close to his mother. How would he react to learning what she had spent the past five months doing? Felicity genuinely didn't know.

Diggle frowned. "I didn't think of that," he admitted. "You're right."

Felicity gave a half-shrug, twisting to look at him again. "Well, that's the best thing about there being two of us involved in this," she responded lightly. "If one of us overlooks something, the other usually doesn't."

"And to think you didn't want me involved at first," Dig retorted, reminding her of her attempts to convince him not to join her crusade, and his adamant refusal to let her run him off.

Felicity still feared the day that joining her got him killed, but she couldn't deny that having Diggle around to share the weight of her mission helped.

"It wasn't that I didn't want you around," she replied, repeating something she had said multiple times. "Just that I don't want you hurt."

"My life, my choice," he stated simply.

"I know, I've accepted that," Felicity agreed. Just as it had been Shado's life and Shado's choice, so too was it Dig's decision, and Felicity had no right to try and control that for him.

"Now, we need to figure out a way, not involving the Archer confronting her, to learn what, if anything, Moira knows," Felicity directed the topic back to the matter at hand. "What do you think? Any ideas?"

Diggle scratched his chin, deep in thought, while Felicity, also considered and discarded various ideas. She debated simply confronting Moira as herself while feigning ignorance to what the List was, but decided it wouldn't work. Moira was an excellent liar, easily able to come up with an excuse.

"I've got an idea!" Diggle exclaimed suddenly, straightening and snapping his fingers triumphantly.

"Well?" Felicity urged him. "Don't keep me in suspense here! What's your plan?"

"Ricky, Moira's usual detail, is about to have his first child," Dig began. "I was going to assign one of the other guys to her while he was off, but this is what I think we should do now:

I'll tell Ricky to go on leave early, say that I'll cover for him so he's still paid but gets to be with his girlfriend while she's dealing with the last bit until the baby comes. Then I'll shadow Moira, see if I can pick up on anything suspicious. If you can put together a small bug, something discreet, then I can plant it on her and record her conversations.

Then, if we find anything suspicious, you confront her with your bow. What do you think?"

"I think that I might be the one with the IQ of 187, but you're the real genius here," Felicity beamed at him as fully as she could, hoping that he picked up on her genuine appreciation for him, and how grateful she was for his help. "It's a great plan, Dig. I even have a bug that'll work. It's only a short-range transmitter, but if I connect it to your Archer phone, we can use it to record her conversations. It's small enough to be placed on her watch-strap or something similar."

She glanced down and rubbed her thumb and forefinger together. "I just hope that it's not what it seems like," she added.

Dig gave her a sympathetic look, reaching out to squeeze her arm. "I know, Felicity," he agreed. "I hope so too, for your and William's sakes. But we have to look into it. We have a duty to Walter as this city's protectors."

"I know, I know," Felicity agreed. It was a hard fact to face, but Felicity hadn't survived everything by ignoring the truth. She'd never been one to back away from a fight to protect herself when there were others who needed it. "We can't ignore evidence of crimes committed by our loved ones, just because we care about them."

Just as Dig had given in and looked into, and later taken down, Ted Gaynor, so too would Felicity have to look into Moira.

"Good," Dig nodded in satisfaction.

"I really hope we're wrong about this," Felicity admitted painfully, looking at the ground. "I don't know what I'll do if she really is-" She faltered, not knowing how to finish the sentence.

Dig rested a sympathetic hand on her shoulder. Thankfully, he knew that there was a time for words of comfort, and a time for silent support. And he had also realized that now was a time for the latter, and thus stayed silent as she pulled away to get the small bug to plant on her mother-in-law.

* * *

"So, you'll mostly be doing secretarial work," Aly informed Thea, who had a dubious expression on her face as she looked around the clinic. "Seeing as you aren't qualified for actual medical work. But it may happen that you'll have to assist, only in minor things though. Bringing down a fever with cold compresses, wrapping bandages, etc, etc. But again, not often I hope. If you have any questions, make sure to ask someone who isn't working on a patient, okay? Try to avoid interrupting somebody with a patient, unless it's an emergency and you can't find anyone else."

"Okay," Thea agreed. The clinic wasn't in the best repair, especially now that Malcolm Merlyn had pulled his funding. Thank God, other benefactors weren't as selfish as the CEO of Merlyn Global.

The clinic was a converted warehouse with an open-floor plan. You entered into a large reception area full of people of all ages and races, all with a pinched, stressed and unhappy air about them. Two receptionists sat behind a shared desk, taking down information from the people in a line before them. There was only one, ancient looking, computer between them, and several large filing cabinets behind them with a large stack of forms on top of the desk.

"Most of the treatment rooms are upstairs," Aly went on, gesturing up at the doors lining the landing above them. "There's a map stuck to the desk that will tell you which level to send the patient to. For example, broken or bruised bones are here on Floor One, Floor Two is for fevers, so on. You'll pick it up quickly, don't worry. There's a second waiting room on each floor for them, so just send them straight to the floor where their symptoms say that they should be. For someone unable to walk, there's an elevator in the hallway, but patients must be escorted when using it. Any questions?"

"Not that I can think of right now," Thea replied nervously, feeling overwhelmed by all of the information.

"Great," Aly smiled widely and warmly at her. "So, I'll show you to your locker, then give you some work to do. Follow me."

She was led to the staff room, where a small locker was waiting for her, 'Queen. T' printed on it to mark it as hers and a small key stuck in the old lock, the door half-open.

"This is your locker," Aly informed her. "Put _everything_ in it. Jacket, phone, lunch, everything. You aren't allowed to be texting or whatever during your shift, though it's fine when you're at lunch. Best to leave your jewellery in there as well. And I recommend not bringing anything of value here. Always keep the locker shut and locked, with the key on you. I wear mine around my neck so as not to lose it. There are two pairs of washable scrubs inside, you have to be wearing them on duty, and wash the pair you wore daily in case you had contact with somebody infected."

"Okay," Thea agreed warily, wondering if the reason she was supposed to avoid bringing anything valuable with her to the clinic was because of thieves. A part of her couldn't believe this was actually happening. Thea had never had to deal with consequences before. The worst was a scolding. No, actually, the worst was a disappointed look from Felicity. She'd been grounded a few times as well, but it hadn't been enforced strictly.

She had promised Felicity that she would try, though, so try she would.

' _I love you, Thea, but you're spoilt,'_ her sister's words echoed in her mind. _'You swore to me that you wouldn't drink and drive, or drive while high. You did_ _ **both**_ _at the_ _ **same time**_ _. You could have killed yourself, or somebody else. Do you understand that? I'm sorry, I love you so much, but until you have this under control, you won't be allowed to watch William on your own. I won't risk it.'_

The disappointment and shocking declaration that she wouldn't be allowed to be around her nephew without supervision had hit Thea like a blow, hammering in the seriousness of what she had done. She had to make things right somehow.

And the knowledge that it was her father who had cheated on her mother, not the other way around, continued to linger in the back of Thea's mind, troubling her and weighing her down. All her memories of him seemed flawed now, despite what Ollie had said about their dad not being perfect but still loving them more than anything (or one) else.

Maybe this community service thing would distract her from that, at least.

"Oh," Aly snapped her fingers in recollection as Thea finished stowing her things in her locker and locking it, now with a pair of pale purple scrubs on over her shirt and jeans (purple for administration, blue for nurses and green for doctors, Aly had explained while she tugged them on.). "One more thing. One of the questions you have to ask when checking somebody in is how they received their injury. If they refuse to answer, try twice at most, then leave it be. A doctor or nurse will ask again later."

"Why wouldn't somebody answer that?" Thea asked in confusion as she followed Aly back towards the reception area.

Aly pursed her lips, eyeing her for a moment before explaining. "Well, it might be an abused spouse whose too frightened to answer, or an abused teen or child for the same reason. Or else they might've gotten it while in the middle of a crime, and don't want to risk arrest. It's not our place to judge what a person does to survive, okay Thea? I see the look you're wearing, but until you've walked a mile in someone's shoes, until you've been in their position, you can't judge them, because for all you know you would make the exact same decision. Our place is to give them the care they need, not to look down on them for what they're doing to stay alive and protect themselves as best they can."

Thea fell quiet, turning Aly's words over in her mind. She'd always been taught that crime was wrong, no matter why, but what was the phrase? Intent is 2/3s of the law or something. Lissy always insisted that the world wasn't black-and-white. And she'd gotten away with God knew how many broken laws, as had her brother, for no reason other than their wealth. The people of the Glades didn't have that option. If Thea had been born in the Glades, she would've gone to jail for her actions.

It was a big revelation, one too big to deal with right now, so Thea pushed those thoughts away to linger on later as they arrived behind the desk.

"Katie, Lou," Aly called to the two receptionists.

"Just a sec, Aly," the woman with the frizzy brunette curls replied, busy rooting through a drawer for something while a teenage boy waited, clutching the hand of a girl who had to be his younger sister and had a flushed and miserable face.

The other woman, a blonde with lots of grey mixed in despite her seeming closer to thirty than forty, held up a finger, scribbling in a slip and handing it to the woman, heavily pregnant with a young child clutching at her skirts. "Here you go, Lena," she said cheerily. "Floor Three, same as always."

Lena smiled back, showing the worry wrinkles and shadows beneath her eyes that aged her. Thea couldn't see a hint of make-up on her, and she wondered why. Then, glancing at the patched dress the woman wore, and the signs of repair on the toddler's clothes, she realized that Lena probably couldn't afford it.

God, what kind of life was that?

"Thanks, Lou," Lena murmured, accepting the slip and guiding the toddler away towards the staircase.

"Isn't she going to take the lift?" Thea whispered to Aly, puzzled why the pregnant woman would subject herself to two flights of stairs in her condition.

Aly shook her head, but didn't explain as Katie had now turned to them, while Lou continued checking people into the clinic.

"So, you must be Thea," Katie smiled at her, reaching out a hand to shake. "I'm Katie Gardener. That's Louise Blackwell, she goes by Lou. You ready to start?"

Thea swallowed, but put on a determined expression and nodded. "Born ready," she claimed, making the woman's grin widen.

"Glad to hear it," Katie smirked. "Come over here and start helping us check people in. We'll start you off easy, seeing as it's your first day an' all. Bright side of hitting the ground running, we're having a slow day today, so you shouldn't get too overwhelmed, at least."

Thea couldn't help but give a disbelieving look at the full waiting room, which had to contain at least fifty people waiting to be signed in and sent to their respective floors. If this was a slow day, she dreaded a busy one.

* * *

"Ricky has been driving me for six years now," Moira Queen told him from her seat in the back of the limo. "I can't remember the last time he missed a day. Thank you for offering to fill in, Mister Diggle."

"His wife is about to have their first child," Diggle explained to her. "And don't thank me, it's my pleasure, Mrs. Queen. Believe me."

"Are you sure Felicity won't miss you?"

"She's spending the night with William," Dig told her. "They're working on their computer."

Moira smiled fondly. "Felicity is an excellent mother," she sighed. "And Will is so like her in character, though he favours my son in his looks."

"He'll definitely have the girls falling at his feet in a few years," Dig agreed.

Moira hummed in response. "Indeed he will," she acknowledged. "Hopefully he won't be as careless as Oliver was as a teenager, however. You can stop just up ahead. No need to escort me inside. It's just my accountant. I promise, I'm fine on my own, Mr. Diggle."

"Of course, Mrs. Queen," John nodded. He pulled into a space, helping her out of the car and then returning to his seat, pulling out the equipment Felicity had given him and setting it up as quick as he could. He clicked it on, nodding when he heard Moira's voice. The sound was crackly, likely due to the separation and walls, but enough for him to make out the words.

" _It's taken care of,"_ Moira's voice stated. _"I've taken care of it. Carl Ballard will not be a problem anymore."_

" _Given your propensity for squeamishness, I'm assuming that Mr. Ballard remains in good health,"_ a man's voice, indistinct but audible, replied coldly.

" _I made it clear to him persuasively that his plans endangered the Undertaking,"_ she answered tensely. _"I didn't have to make the usual threats."_

Dig pursed his lips, huffing. As suspected, Moira was up to something.

" _Excellent. Now, one more matter to attend to. I need you to have to contents of this address removed and disposed of thoroughly. The warehouse where you're storing the remains of 'The Queen's Gambit'."_

John frowned. The Gambit, the boat that had sank and destroyed so many lives, especially Felicity's. Why did Moira have its' remains, and why did this guy want it disposed of?

" _I already told you, I knew Robert's yacht was sabotaged."_

Dig choked in shock and horror.

" _And I don't think it serves for anyone to find evidence of that. Do you?"_

" _I'll take care of it."_

On autopilot, Dig turned off and put away the equipment. All he could think was, "how will I tell Felicity?"

* * *

Quentin sighed heavily as he entered Poison. As he had feared, Laurel was there, giggling madly as she was passed a shot. From the three empty shot glasses in front of her, as well as the two empty cocktail glasses, she was well past tipsy and into drunk.

It was his own fault. He had a sickness, and he'd passed it onto his eldest daughter. She'd always drunk a bit too heavily, but she kept herself moderated. But now, ever since she and Queen had broken up for the millionth time, he had found her getting wasted more and more. He wanted to help her, but he knew from experience that it was up to her to make the effort needed to acknowledge and conquer her alcoholism. For himself, it was only in the past few months, after Felicity's return had brought a spark of happiness back to him, that he had truly begun to heal. He still grieved for Sara, always would, but at least he had Felicity and Laurel.

He had met Felicity when she was a little girl, even though she didn't remember it properly. He'd found Donna Smoak and her daughter sleeping in their car, having fled Vegas after FBI agents had come looking for Donna's ex, an accused and fugitive cyberterrorist. If he hadn't still been married to Dinah at the time, he would've probably asked Donna out. She'd been so lively and caring, working herself into an early grave to support her precocious daughter. But instead of dating her, he had been her friend, helping her get a place to live and work.

More than nearly anything, he wished he had been there to protect her when she died in the crossfire of a gang war. He'd had to try and make up for it by keeping an eye on Felicity instead. In fact, it had been him who'd secretly pulled some strings to arrange for her to take the test that let her get into Belliol Prep. He'd been delighted when Sara brought her home, and done his best to fill the position of parent for her, and over time he had genuinely come to love her as much as his biological children, being 'Grandpa Q' to Will.

When the Gambit went down, Quentin had lost two daughters, not one. Now, he had one of them back, but her return had pained Laurel. Despite his eldest's anger and hurt over breaking up with her fiancé, however, Quentin truly thought it was for the best. He'd probably always hold a bit of resentment towards Queen for how he'd treated Laurel when they were in high school, but even Quentin would grudgingly admit that Queen had always acted as if Felicity was a goddess sent down from Heaven as a gift to him.

Quentin sighed and went up to his daughter, trying to draw her attention. Quentin's closeness to Felicity had created more cracks in their relationship, but he couldn't bring himself to abandon Felicity. She had lost enough in her life, he refused to let her, or Donna's memory, down.

"Heey, Daad," Laurel slurred, giggling. "What're you doing here? Gonna join me? Hey, bartender! A shot each for me an' my dad. Or is it Felicity's dad? Hard to tell, sometimes, if it's her or me whose your kid."

Quentin sighed and waved off the uncertain bartender, who was eyeing Laurel dubiously. "C'mon sweetheart," he urged her up, having to wrap an arm around her waist to keep her upright. "Let's go home."

"There scotch there?" Laurel wondered.

"Yes," Quentin lied. He had tossed out the remains of his alcohol months ago, and hadn't touched anything since. "Cheaper. We can have a few drinks together at home."

"Good idea," Laurel nodded exaggeratedly, leaning on him as he guided her out of the bar.

* * *

Felicity reached out to replay the recording for the fifth? Or was it sixth? time, but this time her finger didn't reach the button. Dig gently grabbed her wrist, stopping her.

"Felicity, it doesn't matter how many times you listen to it," he murmured sympathetically. "It's not going to change. You're just tormenting yourself, listening to it again and again."

"Five years," she replied flatly, her voice sounding distant to her own ears. " _Five years_ , Dig. I lost five years of my kid's life. He was only a few months old. I missed his first steps, his second word, his first day of preschool, everything. And Sara and Robert- I was the only one to make it, Diggle. There was a crew of fifteen on board, but no one, no one talks about them. Just Robert and I, sometimes Sara.

The captain was married with three kids. There was an engineer about to propose to his girlfriend. Another guy was about to have a kid, he showed us the ultrasound photo. And-all this time! All this time, they were all murdered! I was sent to _fucking hell_ for _five years_! And Moira _knew!_ How could she? How fucking could she? How dare she look me in the eye, when she _stole_ five years of my _life_ -"

She broke down. It had been ages since she'd cried. Crying was a weakness she couldn't afford, so she never let the tears escape. But now...She'd thought she had gotten used to betrayal, but it hit her like a knife to the chest, something she knew from experience. What was that quote by Wes Fessler? There is no greater blessing than a family hand that lifts you from a fall; but there is not lower curse than a family hand that strikes you when you're down.

A red haze covered her vision, and she found herself moving without realizing it. She snatched up her bow and quiver, pushing past Dig.

"Felicity, where are you going?" he demanded, rushing to keep pace with her.

"I'm gonna have a chat with my mother-in-law," she replied, tone colder than ice and fury heating her blood.

* * *

_**Boston: February 2005** _

_Felicity stared at Oliver in disbelief. "Repeat that, please," she ordered, raising an eyebrow and trying to hide her shock._

" _Will you go out with me?" the Harvard alumni repeated, smirking at her. She thought she detected a hint of nerves hidden behind his cocky demeanour, but quickly dismissed the possibility as ridiculous. Why the heck would THE Oliver Queen be nervous about asking her, socially awkward,_ _ **not**_ _a leggy brunette supermodel, Felicity Smoak out? It wasn't just ludicrous, it was arrogant too._

" _Is this a joke?" she asked sincerely._

_It was the only reason she could come up with for him to ask her of all people out. She was a (dyed) blonde, short with a small bust, and a perpetually broken brain-to-mouth filter that had her humiliating herself with unintentional innuendos at least twice a day. He was_ _**Oliver Queen** _ _, the hottest guy in Boston, if not the whole US, with money to burn. He could have any girl he wanted, so why would he want_ _**her** _ _? Oliver had a type: leggy, brunette with breasts spilling from their bras who radiated sex and charisma. Felicity_ _**certainly** _ _didn't fit that type. He had to be messing with her for whatever reason. It stung a bit. Her attraction to him was obvious, but although she knew he was an ass, she hadn't thought he would go this far._

" _No," Oliver denied immediately, shaking his head to emphasize it. "I swear. I seriously want to go on a date with you."_

" _ **Why,**_ _though?" she huffed. "That's, I mean you realize how crazy this whole thing is, right? You,_ _ **Oliver Queen**_ _, are asking_ _ **me,**_ _Felicity Smoak, on a_ _ **date**_ _! And if you just decided that you want to have sex with me for some reason, hate to break it to you pal, but I don't do one-night stands. Not for you or anybody else. I sure as heck don't want to be just another notch on Ollie Queen's incredibly-scratched headboard, thanks very much!"_

" _That's why," he admitted, vulnerability creeping into his expression._

_Felicity frowned. "What's why?"_

" _You're different, Lissy," he said earnestly, wide-eyed. "You're so clever, and smart, and drop-dead gorgeous-"_

" _See, now I know that you're lying to me," she scoffed, cursing the heat she felt in her cheeks at the compliments. Oliver ignored her, going on._

" _I really like you, Felicity. You-I've never met a girl like you before. Please, give me a shot. I swear, this isn't about sex. It's just about_ _ **you**_ _."_

_She stared at him, weighing the possible consequences of her decision carefully. In the end, despite conviction insisting that she would regret it, that Oliver was a player who left a stream of broken hearts in his wake and boasted about it later on, she gave in. "Okay," she agreed softly, watching his expression light up._

" _Okay?" he checked._

_She nodded, a small smile forming. "Okay, I'll go out with you," she consented._

_His grin split his face, it was so wide. "You won't regret this, Felicity," he vowed, scrambling to his feet. "I promise. Do you like Italian? You must, everyone likes Italian."_

" _I like Italian," she assured him with a giggle._

" _Great!" he exclaimed, clapping his hands loudly. "Can I pick you up at, like, seven? Or maybe six? What time's best for you? I don't mind-when's-?"_

" _Usually I'm the one talking in fragments," Felicity laughed. "Seven's perfect. Where are we going? No place fancy, please! I would die of embarrassment."_

" _Can't have that," he beamed at her. She'd almost call the look in his bright blue eyes adoration if she didn't know any better than to believe that Oliver Queen would ever feel like that towards her. "So, seven?"_

" _Seven," she nodded._

" _And you're sure that you don't want something fancy?" Oliver pressed anxiously. "There's Giulia, they'd find me a table if I called."_

" _No, no, nothing fancy," Felicity insisted. "I don't do fancy. Carlo's instead maybe? That place is great, and I won't feel like an imposter. And I heard about this habit of yours of bringing expensive gifts for your dates. I don't want any of that, either. Flowers if you must, lilies are my favourite, or maybe some chocolate. Can't go wrong with chocolate, as long as there's no nuts. Nothing expensive, I always feel nervous around that sort of thing, like I'll breathe on it and it'll break."_

" _You're amazing," he murmured._

_She wrinkled her brow. "What do you mean?"_

" _Any other girl I took out would jump at the chance to go someplace ridiculously overpriced and want me to buy them stuff," Oliver explained. "Not you."_

_Felicity shrugged. "I don't want to be that type of person," she informed him honestly. He nodded, eyes shining._

" _Like I said," he replied. "You're amazing."_

_He left after that, heading to organize things for their date. And it was a really good date, too. Excellent food, and they never ran out of things to talk about. Unlike most, Oliver didn't mock her verbal mishaps, or laugh at them, much to her relief. The night took a downward turn when the dessert she had turned out to have nuts in it and she had to be rushed to the emergency room, but it was salvageable. The whole time, Oliver was at her side, holding her hand and distracting her from the needles that alarmed her so much. (In later years, her former_ _Aichmophobia would be a source of dark amusement for her.)_

_Then he took her back to his place, where she fell asleep with her head in his lap and the new Doctor Who reboot playing on screen, as Oliver ran his fingers soothingly through her blonde locks._

_It was a really good date. Felicity would always point to that night in ER as the moment that she stopped being just attracted to Oliver, and started to fall in love with him._

* * *

The glass shattered as Felicity flew feet-first through the window, inciting a chorus of screams from those within the office. She quickly downed the three men Moira was meeting with tranquilizer darts, then turned her bow on her mother-in-law, who was pressed against the cabinet, terrified and wide-eyed.

"Moira Queen," Felicity growled the words she knew that Moira would be expecting. "You have failed this city."

Moira hesitated a second then dove for something beneath her desk. Felicity let an arrow loose, not close enough to hit the elder woman, but close enough that Moira would doubtlessly feel the air from it skim her.

"Stand still!" Felicity barked.

"Please don't kill me," Moira begged breathlessly, eyes wide with fear.

Felicity used the memory of the recording to steel herself against the plea in her surrogate mother's eyes. Thea's eyes. Oliver's eyes.

' _I told you, I already knew that Robert's yacht was sabotaged.'_

"Do you know anything about your husband's disappearance?" Felicity demanded clearly.

"What?" Moira gasped, pressed against the filing cabinet.

"Is Walter Steele still alive?"

"I don't know where my husband is," Moira sobbed. "I swear."

"What do you know about the Undertaking?" Felicity asked then. Moira didn't answer, rushing to grab something off the shelf behind her. "I said don't move!"

But Moira hadn't been going for a weapon. She'd been going for a picture. It was a recent one, by the look of it, showing Oliver and Thea on either side of William, all of them grinning and looking completely carefree.

"I'm-I'm a mother, a grandmother," Moira stammered. "I have a son-Oliver. A daughter, her name is Thea. She's just a teenager. My grandson, he's just a little boy. Please don't take me from my children. They lost their father. They _can't_ lose me, too. Will's already lost so much, and he's just a boy. Please, whoever you are, please."

The plea pierced the haze of Felicity's rage, and she hesitated. Later she would chide herself for the mistake. She knew better than to let her guard down, even in front of those she loved. Maybe especially in front of those she loved.

Her moment's pause gave Moira enough time to toss aside the frame and lunge for something hidden in her desk. She came up and Felicity just had time to register the glint of steel before she heard the familiar 'bang' of a gunshot, and felt pain flood her body. Instinct had her drop to the floor and take cover as her mother-in-law continued firing (and firing badly, at that. The aim made the markswoman in Felicity cringe. Even the shot that hadn't missed was clearly a lucky shot. It had just skimmed the carotid, and was not a through-and-through. Unless Moira was secretly a sadist who wanted Felicity to suffer a prolonged and painful death, in which case it was a perfect hit.).

"This is Moira Queen, I'm on the 39th floor, I need help," she heard the woman gasp into the phone. "There's an intruder. Please!"

There was nothing for it. Felicity was wounded, unable to shoot with her shoulder like this and more opponents, opponents with actual firearms training, were on the way. She needed to abort the mission and get away fast, otherwise she was headed to either hell or a jail cell (in a choice between them, Felicity would definitely choose hell over yet another cell. Besides, she was certain that the moment she was convicted Waller would swoop in to drag her back into the fold. Felicity preferred death to going back to Waller. ARGUS was when she'd been at her worst, even worse than when she was in the Bratva.)

She couldn't go out the window as she had planned originally, not when there was so much chance that she might end up letting go, so, with one hand firmly clamped against her wound to prevent more of her blood escaping, she scrambled out of the door into the hall, thankful that her mask and wig obscured her features from the CCTV cameras that she knew lined the hallways of QC. She could see blood on the floor of Moira's office when she glanced back, and made a mental note to hack the SCPD and have the sample destroyed before they could ID it.

If she didn't die first.

She made it to the garage, but even as she staggered out, planning to hotwire whichever car was available, she knew she'd never make it back to Smoak Tech. Not without help.

She looked around, trying to fight the black spots that were dancing in front of her blurry vision. Then her gaze landed on a familiar, dark green, Mercedes. She knew what she had to do, even as her heart sank to her stomach in dismay at the thought of him learning the truth about her.


	11. Nothing Is Bred

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver learns the truth

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow. Everyone is so excited for this chapter; I hope it lives up to your expectations! (BTW: Felicity also carries a katana. Slade taught her the basics of it, then Tatsu finished it off-she and Felicity became friendly quicker than Tatsu and Oliver in canon. Also, I changed Felicity's tech company name to Smoaking Canary Technologies, instead of just Smoak Tech. At some point I'll get around to editing the previous chapters to fix it. Thanks.)**

**Read, enjoy and review!**

**Chapter Eleven**

**Nothing Is Bred that is (Strong)er Than (Hu)Man(ity)**

Oliver was lost in thought as he made his way to his car. It had been a very long day, filled with meetings. Will was at a sleepover for the birthday party of a friend of his, so Oliver had decided to take advantage and get some excess work done. Unfortunately, as a result it was almost eleven by the time that he was able to leave.

He had no idea that anything was amiss in the building he was only just leaving. He was completely oblivious to the fact that the Starling City Vigilante had just attacked his mother, or that his mother had shot his wife. He was happily consumed with thoughts of getting Raisa to heat up a leftover steak for him and then falling into bed to sleep for a few hours before he had to be up again.

He was so tired that he failed to notice the lack of a beep when he unlocked his car. He sat into the driver's seat, and turned to back out of his parking space, freezing in shock when he laid his eyes on a dark-haired woman draped across his backseat, using his leather jacket to stem the flow of blood that was practically gushing out of her shoulder.

The outfit, the dark hair, the bow and katana strung across her back and knives on her belt. All of it pointed to one person. The Starling City Vigilante was in his car, apparently bleeding to death.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" he exclaimed, feeling his eyes widen to the size of saucers. She looked at him at last then, and he felt them go even wider. Despite the dark hair, mask and brown eyes, he was almost _sure_. He would recognize her anywhere, no matter how she disguised herself.

"It's just me, Oliver," she groaned, her voice confirming his suspicions as she released the jacket and reached up to yank off the wig-mask, letting the blonde curls he had run his fingers through so many times tumble free, before reaching into her eyes to take out the brown-coloured contacts.

Months of secrets and suspicions suddenly clicked. He'd had his suspicions that _something_ was off, but _this_...God, what the _hell_ had _happened_ to her on that goddamn island?

"Felicity?" he stated in shock. He couldn't reconcile it, despite his months-old subconscious suspicions. How was it possible that she had gone from a young woman who had _literally_ cried over stepping on an ant (she'd been the sweetest woman he knew already and then her pregnancy hormones had made her cry over _everything_ ) to the woman who the criminals and one percenters of Starling checked their closets for before going to bed at night?

"Yeah," she confirmed, gasping slightly. "Look, I realize this is a shock and all, but-"

"You're bleeding," he cut her off. "I need to get you to a hospital." Freak out later, get his wife to a doctor immediately.

"No!" she exclaimed, reaching out to grab his shoulder. He could feel the slick blood stain his shirt as he turned back to her in disbelief. "SCT," she rasped. "Take me there. No, no hospitals."

"Felicity, you need a doctor," he argued, starting the car as he spoke. Wherever he took her, they needed to leave _now_.

"No," she insisted, stubborn as ever. "I'll be locked up, Oliver. Please, I'd rather be dead than in another cell. Please, promise you'll take me to my office instead."

"Yeah, okay," he gave in unhappily. He'd never been able to deny her anything she wanted, even this apparently.

What had she said? _Another_ cell. That confirmed some dark suspicions of his. Ones that he had prayed were wrong. "I promise."

"Th, thank you," she rasped out, voice weakening. He pressed down on the gas, alarmed by the fact that she was obviously fading. "Code's 416... left side entrance. Dig's there... Tell 'im..." But whatever she wanted to say to Dig (her bodyguard was in on this? This was _not_ , in any way, _protecting_ her! Oliver was _so_ firing the man, because he clearly wasn't doing his job right if he was knowingly letting Felicity run around being a _vigilante_ of all things.) was lost along with her consciousness.

Oliver swallowed against the taste of bile rising in his throat, and sped up, desperate to get her to help. Even as he drove to the building that she was turning into the headquarters of the tech company she had longed to open for years, he debated turning and taking her to a hospital instead.

But he didn't, still trusting her, despite all of the lies she had revealed with just the removal of a wig. He wasn't at all equipped to explain this, not in a way that would protect her, and he knew the look in her eyes. She had meant it when she said she would prefer to be dead than to be imprisoned. He had to trust she knew what she was doing. It was his only option.

* * *

John was wracked with worry for his partner as he waited for news. She hadn't taken her Bluetooth with her when she went after Moira, nor had she contacted him yet, whether through her heavily-encrypted burner phone or another way. She had been so furious and distraught when she went to question the woman, she was in no shape to be in the field, let alone facing down a person she loved.

He should have gone with her. He was her partner, he should be watching her six right now. He dialled her burner phone again, but again it rang out.

Abruptly, John was distracted from his anxious pacing by a mention of a break-in at QC, and he quickly went to sit in front of the monitor streaming the local news station to listen and find out if there was any word on Felicity's status.

" _So far the police are unwilling to comment,"_ the reporter was saying. _"But unsubstantiated eyewitness reports claim that the Starling City vigilante attacked Mrs. Queen in her office earlier tonight. She was unharmed in the assault."_

John was so intent on the news that he failed to hear the door opening and closing and the hurried, heavy footsteps approaching. They would have alerted him to a problem immediately, as Felicity never made a sound unless it was intentional, ghosting silently over the ground even though her preferred type of footwear usually consisted of high heeled boots (as the Vigilante) and stilettos (in civies).

"Excuse me?" the familiar voice of Felicity's husband (and she was kidding herself if she thought that he would ever _stop_ being her husband. The two of them were clearly still deeply in love. Honestly, John hoped the pair sorted themselves out and got back together. She, more than anybody else, deserved that bit of happiness. Not to mention he feared for his sanity and that of everyone else is the UST wasn't sorted out soon.), caused John to whip around and point his gun in Queen's direction.

He was holding Felicity, clearly unconscious and without her mask and wig set, and the scent of blood permeated the air.

"Can you help?" Oliver demanded, voice and expression panicked. "She's bleeding, badly."

John's surprise was suppressed as his training took over and he swiftly jumped into action. "Put her on the gurney!" he barked, pointing at the gurney they kept against the side of the room. (He'd never asked where the hell Felicity had gotten all the equipment, but they had a full-blown medical bay, up to and including a portable x-ray machine.) As Oliver carefully put her down, looking as pale as Felicity despite not being wounded, John rushed around grabbing the stuff he needed for the upcoming triage.

"Oh, damn it," John swore as he took in the sight of the wound. "It just missed the carotid. It's a zone two wound. Press there." He grabbed Oliver's hand and pressed it down on the gauze to stem the bleeding before rushing to the fridge where they kept the stock of blood.

"I should've taken her to a hospital!" Oliver exclaimed. "Isn't the carotid an artery?"

"No, Oliver, that's why she asked you to bring her here," John denied as he pulled two bags out and grabbed the IV stand. "Because she knew the police would want to know how and why he got the wound."

"Yeah, I've noticed that how and why are Felicity's least favourite questions nowadays," the blue-eyed man scoffed bitterly.

"Yeah, well, there's also when and where, she's not too fond of," John retorted.

"So, if we can't bring her to the hospital..." Oliver began, and John finished the sentence.

"We bring the hospital to her."

Just then Oliver caught sight of bags of red liquid that John held and his face tinged green. "Is that...?"

"Yeah," John confirmed. "Her blood. She's been saving it for a rainy day and right now, I'd say it's pouring."

"Oh, God," he mumbled, breathing heavily and looking as if he was verging on a panic attack. John felt bad for the guy. God knew that he'd been a mess the time Lyla had been injured by IED and he and the other medic in their unit had needed to preform triage to stabilize her until support could come. And he'd had the benefit of training and experience to maintain his composure in that sort of situation. But even with that sympathy, John knew they couldn't afford for the guy to break down right now. Not when Felicity's wound was still pouring blood like a crimson waterfall.

"Listen, Oliver," he used the man's Christian name as he rested a hand on the blonde's shoulder in comfort. "Felicity's the toughest woman I know. She's gonna be fine. Believe me, she's been through a lot worse."

"That doesn't exactly make me feel better," Oliver mumbled, sending a dark look at the mottled scar on Felicity's right breast.

"It should," John replied composedly. "Because if she can survive five years of non-stop fighting without proper medical supplies to get back to you and your kid, she's not about to let this take her down. Now, I need you to help me. So, get your head in the game and focus."

"Okay," Oliver croaked, nodding determinedly.

John could see why Felicity liked him. She had a fondness for tough people who pushed through their emotions and did what had to be done for the greater good. John kinda liked the guy as well. He'd grown up from the spoiled playboy of the early-00s.

"Alright," John nodded back. "Let's do this."

"Do you even know what you're doing?" Oliver asked anxiously as John set about hooking Felicity up to the blood transfusion.

"Yeah, I had some medical training in the army," he assured the other man, adding in a lower tone that he hoped Oliver didn't hear. "I just hope it's enough."

* * *

_**Lian Yu: 2007** _

" _Hey, Shado," Felicity said, looking at where the newest member of their little group of survivalists was preforming some complicated yoga stretches that Felicity never would've tried to manage before all of this. Felicity herself had been slapping bowls of water for the past three hours, alternating arms with each slap. She had to admit, although she couldn't understand how it would help her learn to fight, there was a bit of a soothing air to the repetitive rhythm. "Can I ask you something?"_

" _If you wish," Shado replied, her toes touching her head as her hands kept her balanced. She wasn't even out of breath._

" _You said you knew why Fyers wanted Yao Fei, and how he was forcing him to help," Felicity stated. "I get why he would help when you were threatened, a parent would do anything for their child. But why does Fyers want him?"_

_Shado sighed and straightened up, avoiding Felicity's gaze while sorting through their supply stocks purposelessly as she replied. "My father was a Shangjiang in the People's Liberation Army," the Chinese woman explained. "A general. I didn't hear the details of Fyers plans, but he wants my father to be the face of it. A scapegoat. To take the blame and conceal their own involvement."_

" _Why was Yao Fei on the island in the first place?" Felicity prodded softly. "Fyers says he murdered people, but I'm not inclined to believe a terrorist, purely on principal. Plus, your father saved me. Multiple times. I can't see him being a mass murderer."_

" _You're right, he didn't," Shado confirmed, giving Felicity a small, but grateful, smile as she uncurled herself from the stretch. "The Chinese military committed the massacre. Someone had to take the blame. They chose him. Sent him to this island for life. I spent years looking for him._

_A few months ago, a man came to my apartment. Said that he had information about my father's whereabouts. I had given up hope." She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "Let my guard down. Didn't see the taser until... When I woke up, I was here." They were quiet save for the sound of Felicity slapping water before Shado spoke again, voice soft in a rare showing of vulnerability. "I'm worried. This island... What he must have had to do to survive. That it changed him."_

_Felicity reached out to rub her arm comfortingly. "He saved my life," she told her gently. "Several times. He's still a good man, Shado. Whatever else has changed, that hasn't. I promise."_

_Shado swallowed and nodded, then looked at Felicity. "What of you? I saw the rings on that necklace you have around your neck. You seem young to be married."_

" _I'm eighteen," Felicity admitted. "I was sixteen when I got married, just barely legal. It was a shotgun wedding." As she spoke, she reached up to fidget with the rings, thanking God she hadn't lost them._

_On Yao Fei's advice, she had removed them from her finger and strung them on the chain for her locket, the one containing her husband and son's picture before hiding it in the cave. That had no doubt preserved it from Fyers and his men. When she had run back to her and Yao Fei's shared cave to retrieve the herbs for Slade after he was injured, she had gotten the necklace back as well. It had felt like re-growing a limb._

" _Shotgun wedding?" Shado repeated curiously._

_Felicity gave a rueful smile. "I was pregnant," she explained simply. "My son's name is William. He was about seven months old when I left. It's nearly his first birthday now, I think. Time is so hard to tell here." Her grief leaked into her tone, despite her attempts to keep her voice steady._

_Shado gave her a sympathetic look, reaching out to grip her hand in comfort. "We will stop Fyers, and you will see your son again, just as I will see Papa," she promised her. Then she drew back and returned to what Felicity had dubbed as her 'sensei mode'. "Now, refill the bowl and start again."_

* * *

Oliver took a step away from the gurney and swiped his arm across his sweaty forehead, sighing tiredly. "Good job," he praised the other man, who was tying off the last stitch. Oliver tried not to dwell on the fact that he'd essentially just done surgery on his wife. Glancing at the heart monitor that seemed too fast for his liking, though his experience was limited to a few hospital trips and TV, he added an uncertain. "I think."

He still thought they should give her something for the pain, but when he'd suggested it Diggle had insisted that drugging her would only agitate her. So instead, they'd removed a bullet from her shoulder and Diggle had stitched her up while she occasionally grunted or flinched from the pain, actions both men reacted to with chagrin.

"Her heart rate's elevated, but at least the bleeding stopped," Diggle replied briskly as he peeled off his gloves and dumped them in the bin beside them. "Thanks for your help," he added. "You kept your head on." There was a hint of surprise in his voice that made Oliver's shoulders tense.

He was used to being underestimated, used to his abilities being sneered at due to his dumb actions as a teenager, but that didn't mean it didn't always sting.

"Yeah, well," he shrugged, staring at Felicity, who was lying prone, not stirring and so, so scarred. "She's Felicity."

Diggle gave him a sympathetic look. "She's gonna be okay, man," he insisted gently. "Felicity's tough."

"You know," Oliver sighed. "When I hired you to protect her, this isn't exactly what I meant."

Diggle shrugged. "Would you prefer she do it alone?"

Oliver flinched at the thought. If Felicity had been on her own tonight, she would certainly have died. The thought made bile rise in his throat.

Then again, so did the scars. He reached out and traced one on her lower hip, while his gaze lingered on the tattoos that she had gained. She'd gotten William's name and date-of-birth tattooed on her ankle when their son was two months old, as had Oliver, but he'd once known her body intimately and she'd never had any others before the island.

When Sara had suggested it, she had babbled about what if it turned out awful and she hated it and had to live with her body all marked with for the rest of her life? Or else she got old or fat or lost weight and it stretched and looked terrible? Or she got it in a too revealing place and ended up losing a job for being unprofessional or something?

William's birthday was the only exception she'd made, despite teasing and coaxing from her dearest friend, but that, like so many other things, had been changed by the island.

Now, there was a crudely-drawn star just above her heart, some Chinese characters on her hip, and he'd caught sight of a dragon covering most of her left shoulder (along with a bad burn scar) when they were tearing her shirt off to get at her wound. Finally, she had what looked like a canary drawn in black on her left ankle.

That one he got. Sara'd always loved that bird, and Felicity had always loved Sara like a sister. She must've gotten it to honour her, just as she'd chosen to use it to honour her and Sara's dream of opening a company together.

"She was tortured," he stated flatly. "Wasn't she? She lied when she said the island was deserted."

The bodyguard let out a heavy sigh. "She doesn't talk about it," he informed Oliver.

"Not even with you?" Oliver asked in surprise. "Clearly she trusts you." A hint of jealousy crept into his voice, despite his efforts to prevent it. After all, she'd trusted her bodyguard with this big secret of hers (and thinking about it, it had to have been around the time of the Unidac auction that she and Diggle partnered up. That was when the dark-skinned man had stopped complaining about Felicity disappearing, and when the pair had advanced to first name basis.), but she had only told Oliver, her _husband_ and friend, the father of her only child, when she was _bleeding to death_.

Diggle sighed again and crossed his arms. "She's got a lot of trouble with trusting people," he offered. Oliver snorted.

"That doesn't come from the island," he muttered. "That was something she's always had." Oliver blamed her son of a bitch dad for leaving his wife and daughter (on Felicity's seventh birthday at that!) to be traumatized by an FBI SWAT team breaking down their door looking to arrest the bastard and sending them fleeing half-way across the country in terror.

Diggle gave a simple nod as he went on. "I was shot during the UI auction shooting," he explained. Bullet was poisoned. Felicity brought me back and patched me up."

"And asked you to join her crusade to end crime in the city, one arrow at a time?" Oliver scoffed. He was surprised when Diggle shook his head.

"No," he replied simply. "All she asked was that I not tell anyone the truth, but she didn't even try and stop me or anything. I _wanted_ to join. I offered. She needed help, and this is a good thing she's doing. Saving the city, getting justice for those who deserve but can't get it themselves or legally, 'cause their tormentors have deeper pockets than they do."

"Why's she doing it anyway?" Oliver wondered. "I mean-I'm not gonna say she never coloured outside of the lines, but there's a huge difference between being a hacktivist and exposing corruption to being a, a _killer_."

Diggle pursed his lips and looked away. "That's a question you need to ask your wife, Mr. Queen," he said after a moment. "And you better prepare yourself for the answer, 'cause you won't like it."

"Well, can you at least tell me why she attacked Mom?" Oliver requested. "She and Mom have always been close. Is it because of that notebook?"

Felicity knew what that book was. In hindsight, Oliver realized that she had recognized it the second he took it out of his pocket. Something about it was bad enough that it had prompted her to attack his mother, and Oliver was almost relieved when Diggle again avoided answering him.

"That's something else you need to ask Felicity," he stated.

"Right," Oliver mumbled.

"I was thinking all of this would be more of a shock to you," Diggle finally stated after several moments of silence, during which Oliver had found himself wandering over to the rack holding about a dozen different knives, the special ones used for fighting, not cooking. He had carried Felicity's quiver, bow and sword (he thought it was the Japanese style, katana was it called?) along with her into the lair, he supposed it was called, and Diggle had tossed them out of the way in front of the knife case in the rush to tend her.

Oliver gave a hollow laugh. "I knew she was hiding _something_ ," he admitted. "I thought it was about what happened on the island. But she's been acting so strangely-ducking out randomly, being uncontactable any time that the vigilante was reported to be active, suddenly knowing how to fight and being so graceful when she used to trip over her own feet, all of it. There's this, this _edge_ to her, that she never used to have. But I didn't let myself think about it, you know? I wanted to believe she was still the woman I knew, because if she wasn't, then she suffered enough to get rid of that girl..." he trailed, staring at the wickedly-sharp knives displayed.

She had cried over accidentally killing a bug once, he thought again, pain twisting his chest. What had happened to her, to change her from the girl he had once compared to sunshine to someone, some _thing,_ else?

Suddenly, the monitors began beeping loudly and urgently, as Felicity's arms and legs began spasming and flailing.

"What's going on?" Oliver demanded in panic, his heart in his throat as he rushed over to where Diggle had already jumped into action, pressing her down to stop her falling off the gurney. "There's a syringe over there labelled Ativan!" the bodyguard snapped, jabbing a finger in the right direction. "Grab it, it'll stop the seizure!"

Oliver ran to fetch the item, but just as he wrapped his fingers around it, he heard her flatline. "I'm calling 9-1-1!" he cried in panic, going for his phone.

"You can't!" Dig retorted, grabbing one of those heart-shocking machines. Oliver thought it was called a defibrillator.

"Do you even know how to use that?"

The look on Dig's face said it all. "We're about to find out," he stated grimly as he placed the pads on Felicity's chest and shocked her.

"Do it again!" Oliver urged when the first attempt failed, but Diggle was just waiting for the charge, and the second shock restored her heartbeat, making them slump in relief as their adrenaline drained.

"This is less stressful when she's jumping off rooftops!" Dig cried, flinging his hands in the air.

"What now?" Oliver asked shakily, his face pale.

"Hope that we don't have heart attacks ourselves," Diggle huffed, clearly at his wits' end from it all. Oliver sighed and paced the length of the room, ending up beside the table where Felicity's bow and sword had been carelessly tossed in their rush to tend her.

He picked up the bow, surprised at how heavy it was, and when he tested it, he discovered he could only pull it back about a third of the way. How strong had Felicity become, to manage her reported feats?

"This bow's put arrows in a lot of people," he commented, putting it back down. He didn't even _try_ to lift the katana. The wickedly-sharp edge unnerved him.

"Bad people," Dig replied evenly as he made his way to the computer and tapped at it, opening something on the screen. Oliver saw the SCPD symbol and decided not to ask.

"That doesn't bother you?" he asked curiously instead. "Because, and I hope this doesn't come across the wrong way, you seem like the type of guy that this sort of thing would bother."

Dig sighed, and Oliver turned to look at him, seeing that he'd turned the computer chair around and had his arms crossed.

"When I was in Afghanistan, my unit was tasked with protecting this local warlord," Dig murmured, a distant look in his dark eyes. "Gholem Qadir. Qadir was less than human, sold opium. Sold _children_. Kids as young as William, or my little nephew AJ.

One day, we were accompanying him to Mosul when my convoy was ambushed by insurgents. We had them outgunned. The firefight didn't last more than a minute. When the smoke cleared, I moved in on their position. They were all dead. I knew which one I had killed. When I pulled off his keffiyeh, I could see it was just a kid, no more than 18. I'd shot him right in the throat. I killed this kid to protect this human piece of garbage, and I thought, am I still good? Am I still a good man?"

Oliver swallowed and looked away, realizing now more than ever that his life had been sheltered and good, despite the grief of losing the love of his life, his father and a dear friend in one fatal swoop.

"Doing this with Felicity; doing what we do, I feel good again for the first time in a long time," Diggle finished softly.

Oliver cleared his throat. "And that's worth all the collateral damage?"

"I haven't killed anyone, if that's what you're asking," Diggle replied mildly.

"But she has," Oliver pointed out painfully. Felicity, the woman he loved, the one he'd always considered to be an example of the best of humanity, was a killer. Yes, she didn't kill everyone she went after, but she still killed people. People they knew, people that Oliver had grown up knowing. Scott Morgan had attended their wedding; Adam Hunt had always come to their Christmas parties every year.

Oliver just couldn't reconcile this revelation with the Felicity he remembered.

"Unfortunately, Mr. Queen, there are always casualties when you're fighting a war," Diggle stated in a hard voice.

They were quiet for a moment before Diggle suddenly dug something out of a drawer and showed it to Oliver.

"Felicity gave, or rather she tried to give me this my first week working with her," Diggle informed him.

"What's on it?" Oliver asked warily. Dig cracked a soft smile.

"It's a get-out-of-jail-free card," he informed him simply. "It's what made me sure that I was right that she's a good person, that she cares. On it is fake evidence that Felicity threatened my family to make me help her with her mission, as well as evidence of her so-called crimes. If we were compromised and arrested, I could give it to the cops and say I was coerced and gathering information to give them. I'd get off scott-free, and she'd cop all the blame. Even for crimes she _hadn't_ committed. I refused to take it, but she insisted on keeping it just in case."

Oliver was silent, staring at the USB in deep thought.

"She never goes after someone without some sort of proof of their crimes," Diggle continued. "Never kills the guards if avoidable, never kills someone who's just involved in white collar crimes.

She's still a good person, Oliver. She's doing what she can to make this city safer, for you, your son and your sister. She's still Felicity. It's just that she's not the same woman who boarded that boat five and a half years ago. And let's be honest, who is?"

/

Over the course of the next few hours, Oliver received sixteen calls and twelve messages from his mom and sister, and Felicity also received a dozen. Eventually, he turned off the phones, unable to face the thought of speaking to his mother when he knew she was involved in something that led to Felicity, who had always been close to Moira, point an arrow at her. Until he understood what was happening, he couldn't bear having to deal with his mother and risk her lying to his face.

It was past daybreak by the time Felicity finally stirred, groaning slightly as her head turned in their direction, eyelashes fluttering open. She cracked a small smile as she took them in.

"So, looks like I survived," she mumbled as she used her good arm to maneuver herself into a sitting position. "Again. Isn't that nice?"

Despite the stress of the past few hours, Oliver found himself releasing a mildly hysterical laugh as Diggle offered Felicity a mirror and a grey blanket that he'd taken off a cot shoved in a corner.

"Good job," she complimented them, studying the stitches with the mirror. She glanced at Dig (as he had recently given Oliver permission to call him, in exchange for using Oliver's Christian name.). "How'll I explain this one, then?"

"Hickey gone wrong?" Dig smirked, earning a dry look and a sarcastic laugh.

"Oh, haha," she scoffed as she tugged the blanket up to cover herself. "Did you sort out the blood sample?"

"Uh-huh," Dig nodded, arms crossed over his chest again. "Went onto the SCPD site, using that backdoor you installed and showed me, ordered the sample destroyed. We're covered."

"Good," Felicity murmured softly, her eyes fixed on Oliver, who was trying to find the words to speak. "Dig, can you-?"

"I'll give you guys a minute," he agreed. "I need to call Carly, anyway. See if AJ's over his flu yet."

As Dig left, she slid off the table and came over to him, staying just out of reach. There was an uncertain look in her eyes, one that brought to mind her nervous expression when he had collected her for their first date. But now he saw what he had never seen in her before, the coiled tension and almost-panther-like grace, as if she were on guard for an attack.

It seemed ludicrous. _He_ wasn't a violent person, had never so much as contemplated the possibility of raising a hand to her. _She_ was the one spending her nights pointing arrows at people, yet _she_ was afraid of _him_? How the hell did that work?

"Why, Felicity?" he asked finally. "I don't understand."

She bit her lip deeply, eyes fluttering closed for a moment before she re-opened them. "I lied," she revealed at last, making his brow wrinkle in confusion. "About the wreck. Robert, he made it to the lifeboat with the captain and I."

"Dad survived?" Oliver repeated painfully. "But then-"

"We floated for, I don't know," she cut him off, not looking at him. "Days, I think. I was-I must've had a concussion, I kept blacking out. Eventually, we started to run out of rations."

Oliver felt his throat tighten. He knew the type of man his father had been, he knew that Robert had loved Felicity like she was blood. He knew what he'd do if it had been him and William in that position.

He knew where this story was going.

"I woke up again," Felicity continued softly, a haunted, distant expression on her scarred, beautiful face. She looked as if she were somewhere entirely different, on a lifeboat in the middle of the ocean instead of a basement in the middle of Starling. "Robert, he told me how he had failed the city, begged me to survive, right his wrongs and keep our family safe. Then he, he shot the captain. I didn't even know he had a gun until then. I don't think the captain did, either. We were both too stunned to react."

They were both crying now, tears streaming silently from their eyes as she spoke in a shaky voice.

"He told me to survive," she repeated. "Gave me a small notebook and told me everything he needed to know was inside. Said to tell you guys, you, Thea, Will and Moira, how much he loved you, and me as well. Then he shot himself."

"A notebook?" Oliver asked, shaken and feeling as if he had just lost his father all over again. "Like-"

"The one Walter found, yes," she confirmed softly. She went over to the desk and removed the small leather notebook from it. It was nearly identical to the one Moira'd had, but much more weather-worn with torn pages and old water stains on it. She flipped to the back of the book, showing him a hastily scribbled letter in his father's handwriting, most of the words washed away by the ocean. Oliver could only make out a few words.

"People, list, destroy, city," he read. "Fix, Under, stop at all costs. Survive."

She nodded softly. "I promised, Oliver," she whispered. "You know that I don't break my promises."

He swallowed harshly against the lump in his throat, but failed to clear it. "I need you to do something for me," he finally got out, eyes stinging and head pounding. "If this is a suicide quest, then _stop_. For Will's sake if not mine. I don't-I don't care about Dad's promise. _Please_ , Felicity."

She gave him a sad look, and he knew her response before she said it aloud.

"I can't, Oliver," she said gently. "I have to do this. I made a promise to your father, and I won't break it. You know I won't."

"Do I even know you at all anymore?" he flung out, feeling guilty when she flinched slightly at the sharp tone he used. Or perhaps the words.

His shoulders slumped and he sighed for what felt like the millionth time. "What did Mom say?"

Felicity looked guilty. "She, um, she begged for her life," she admitted. "For you, Thea and Will's sakes. Said that she didn't know where Walter was."

"Do you believe her?" Oliver asked, not bothering to hide his relief.

"I do," Felicity agreed cautiously. "But something's going on, Oliver. We both know that."

Oliver clenched his jaw and ran a hand through his short hair. "I need to go," he said abruptly. "I need to think about...this." He waved a hand at the rack of arrows.

Felicity bit her lip. "Are you going to take William away from me?" she whispered, agony in her eyes and shoulders slumped in defeat.

He stared at her for a moment before grabbing his coat and pulling it on, heading for the door. As he walked away, he called over his shoulder. "Make sure not to be late picking him tomorrow. It's your night to have him. And don't attack someone in our family again. Ever."

He heard her sharp intake of breath and the relieved sigh she released afterwards. "Thank you, Oliver," she whispered.

He didn't reply, shutting the door sharply behind him as he made his way to his car, head pounding and feeling more lost than he had since he'd received the news that the yacht carrying his wife and father had sent out a mayday signal in the middle of a storm.


	12. Thieves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver joins the team.

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow.**

**Everyone seems to have enjoyed the big reveal to Oliver, I'm so glad! Here's 'Dodger', hopefully I'm keeping up the good work!**

**(Oh, and I can't remember if I said this before or not, but Felicity's wig is styled the way Shado kept her hair, and she uses Yao Fei/Shado's bow, and a katana given to her by Tatsu.) Silas Salvatore is a salute to Janina Gavankar's character Qetsiyah "Tessa" on Vampire Diaries, who was involved with Silas, who was a doppelganger of Stefan Salvatore (you have to watch it to get it).**

**Read, enjoy and review!**

**Chapter Twelve**

**The (Art-stealing) Dodger**

It was over a week of brooding and trying to come to terms with everything he had learned before Oliver could finally bring himself to approach Felicity again. He'd vaguely explained to his friends and family that they'd argued, and otherwise avoided talking about it. But exactly eight days after finding his wife bleeding out in his backseat, Oliver once again drove up to the hidden side entrance of her offices and went up to it. He was about to try the code from last week when it buzzed and opened, and he entered, trotting down the steps.

Felicity wasn't there, but Diggle was. The dark-skinned man was sitting at the computer desk, one screen showing the entrance, and another showing some reports and other stuff and the last one streaming that weirdly coloured footage you saw being used by cops and military types to see inside of buildings on those types of shows.

"Hey," Dig greeted him curtly, gaze fixed on the screens. "Felicity's not here."

"Where is she, then?" Oliver asked tensely, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Paying Ken Williams a visit," Dig stated simply, not taking his gaze off the screen. He pressed a button. "Artemis, you've got two security guards coming up the stairs behind you."

"Thanks, Freelancer," she replied, voice distorted by a modulator, as the news had reported. "I got them."

Oliver had gone through all the available information and news reports on the vigilante over the past week, and he still couldn't quite wrap his mind around the thought of Felicity of all people doing them. How'd she even jump off a rooftop in wedged boots with two missing toes while maintaining her balance, anyway?

"Freelancer?" Oliver repeated questioningly.

Dig nodded, still not removing his gaze from what Oliver now realized was Felicity on a 'job'. "Yeah," he confirmed. "My handle. We can't risk using our actual names over the comms, in case someone hacks our communications system. So, she goes by Artemis, she prefers it to Archer, and I go by Freelancer. It comes from my Army days."

Oliver nodded, staring at the screen as the shape he assumed to be Felicity entered another room with one other person in it.

"Ken Williams, you have failed this city!" they heard her snarl through the speakers. Dig reached out and muted the sound, finally looking at Oliver.

"No need to worry," he assured him. "Williams is white collar crimes. His pyramid scheme stole millions, cost people everything. He'll fold, I guarantee it. I insisted she just take an easy job, seeing as her arm's still healing up. I'd have preferred her to take a few more days off, but she's stubborn and bereft of common sense and self-preservation instincts."

Oliver nodded slowly. He didn't like the thought of her being out so quickly. Eight days was not long enough for her to recover from a GSW to the shoulder. "Is that why you're here and not backing her up?" he wondered. "Because it's just an easy one."

Dig sighed, grimacing. "Much as I wish I could be with her as back-up for every mission, it's only for the very dangerous ones that we do that," he explained. "Someone needs to back here on comm duty, watching out for her or pulling up info as necessary. There's only the two of us, so unless she's too hurt to go out in the field, in which case we switch, that's usually me."

"I see," Oliver mumbled as Dig turned the sound back on, not comforted by that revelation. It had been a small comfort, when dwelling on the danger Felicity put herself in every night, to think that at least she was with Diggle, whom he knew had been Special Forces for quite a while, with most of his time overseas redacted. Learning that he was wrong and Felicity was usually alone as she confronted the worst of the city's criminals and their guards, was more than a little dismaying.

"I'm done, Freelancer," Felicity said after several moments of silence. "I thought I'd do a short patrol before-"

"Negative, Artemis," Dig interrupted sharply. "Return to base. You're still recovering, and we have a visitor."

"What?" she demanded sharply. "Who?"

"OJQ," was Dig's vague response. Felicity inhaled sharply and was quiet for a second.

"Copy that, Freelancer," she said after a moment. "I'm on my way back."

//

She arrived back almost twenty minutes later, her heeled boots making no sound as she came down the stairs, wearing a solemn, wary expression.

"Oliver," she greeted him softly, hovering at the bottom of the stairs. "Hello."

"Hi," he replied, staring at her, taking in her vigilante get-up. Last week, he'd been too busy rushing her to the base for treatment to take her in properly.

The blonde curls he had loved to tug his fingers through were hidden beneath a raven wig with several thin braids tied in it. She wore a pair of black, wedged boots that laced up to her knees over purple leather pants, a black shirt beneath a hooded purple coat that belted closed and had several pockets, one on each breast and on her hips. Several knives were attached to her belt, and she had both the katana, and the bow and quiver slung across her back, forming an 'x'. Black gloves and two sets of brass knuckles covered her hands, and there was a black mask along with brown contacts and blood-red lipstick disguising her features.

He barely recognized her as his wife.

"You hurt at all?" Dig questioned her. "Stitches still good?"

She nodded silently, not taking her gaze away from Oliver's own.

"I'll give you two a few minutes alone then," Diggle said evenly, before striding into an adjoining room.

Felicity exhaled lowly once he was gone, turning away at last and beginning to remove her disguise, starting with her weapons and ending by replacing her contacts with her glasses. Finally, dressed in just the shirt and pants with the boots, she almost looked like his Felicity again.

Almost.

"So," she said at last. "Have you decided what you're going to do, then?"

He pursed his lips. "I want in," he replied, offering the decision he'd come up with. She spun to face him, eyes widening in surprise. Before the Gambit, she would've tripped over her own feet at the action. Now, she kept her balance deftly, despite being short two toes. How did she _do_ that?

"You want-Oliver, you can't!" she objected. "You don't have the training for this sort of thing. And William-if you join, and we're all arrested or killed-"

"I'm not suggesting I start jumping off of rooftops or fighting mobsters," Oliver cut her off. "I'm not stupid, Felicity. I know I'd be screwed trying to do stuff like that. But Diggle told me that he has to stay behind a lot, to work, tech support, I guess it is?"

She nodded; expression still wary.

"I'm not even close to your level when it comes to tech," he acknowledged. "We both know that. But he said last week that you have a bunch of programmes set up and installed in your computer, ones that let him hack into even the NSA without you. I'll do that, be tech support, while you take him with you to keep an eye on you. I hired him to keep you safe, and he can't exactly do that from the other side of the city."

She studied him, recognizing that he wasn't going to back down on this, just as he had known she wouldn't stop either.

"I can't talk you out of this," she said anyway. "Even for Will's sake? Thea?"

"No," he insisted stubbornly. "I won't change my mind, Lissy. I can't-This past week has been hell, thinking of the sort of stuff you've been reported doing, all the times you could have died these past few months. I can't spend the rest of my life, always waiting for a text to learn if you've been killed or arrested or whatever. At least if I'm involved, I'll know what's going on."

That wasn't even touching on the other part, that it was his father who had kick-started all of this, his father who had put this task on Felicity's shoulders. Oliver had to be a part of this. He _had_ to.

She sighed and gave in. "Promise you won't go into the field, that you'll stay safe here," she pleaded. "Our son shouldn't go through losing both parents."

"I promise, as long as you promise to always fight to come home to us," Oliver replied quietly.

She gave a wooden smile. "I've been fighting to get back to you guys since the boat went under," she answered gently.

"There's one more thing," Oliver added.

"What?"

"Walter," he stated. "I want to find him."

Her expression grew wary. "I've been looking, Dig's called a bunch of his contacts," she assured him. "But, Oliver-"

"I _know_ , Felicity," he interrupted her. "I know that he's probably dead. But I still need to know what happened to him."

"Alright," she agreed gently. "We're looking, Oliver. I promise. We won't give up until we figure out what happened to him."

"Good," he nodded, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. "So, what now?"

"Now, we take the rest of the night off," Diggle spoke up, re-entering the room. "Felicity's put enough strain on that shoulder tonight. We can decide on our next target tomorrow."

Felicity made a face at him, but he simply raised an eyebrow with his arms crossed, putting a scolding parent in mind for Oliver, and she sighed and gave in. By the sounds of it, they'd had this argument before. Several times.

* * *

"Oliver, pay attention," Felicity chided him lightly. For their first case, they were going after the so-called 'Dodger', a hostage-taking thief whom Felicity had seen a news report on. She thought it would be a good case to get Oliver's feet wet and she found the whole thing rather interesting. She knew a lot about explosives from her time in ARGUS along with Anatoli's tuition, but the whole bomb collar was a new one for her.

However, they had chosen to plan out their attack over lunch at Big Belly Burger, and Oliver kept getting distracted by the surroundings and people.

"Sorry," he muttered. "Just, is this really how you plan out your attacks? Over burgers and shakes at Big Belly Burger?"

"A)," Felicity flicked up a finger. "Dig's sister-in-law works here, so they're discounted. B), I have a soda and salad, not a milkshake and burger." She still had lots of problems with processed food or big meals, and deeply regretted it. There had been times on Lian Yu when she had literally _dreamed_ of mint chocolate chip ice cream. "C), yes, it is," she finished. "Why, would you prefer some shady bar?"

"Kinda," he retorted, a glint of affection in his eyes when he looked at her. At least, she thought (or perhaps hoped) there was. "This feels more like we should be planning a bake sale, or a PTA meeting or something."

"Well, we're not," she drawled, tilting her head to the side. "We're trying to figure out how to catch a lunatic with a Dickensian nickname who likes to go around blowing people's heads off."

"Right, right," he nodded, raising his hands in a motion of surrender. "Go on then."

"So, we know that the Dodger is targeting a certain type of Spanish antiquity," she stated, flipping her braid over her shoulder. "If we figure out what type or why, we can figure out how to catch him."

"I have an idea," Oliver answered. "McKenna is on the taskforce going after the Dodger. We're still good friends. I could meet up with her, slip a bug onto her phone and then boom! We know everything that the police do."

"McKenna?" Felicity repeated, trying to stamp down on any feelings of jealousy she had no right to. "As in McKenna Hall?"

He nodded. "She's engaged to a guy named Silas Salvatore now," he added casually, and Felicity relaxed automatically. "But we still catch a coffee together every so often. What do you think?"

She grinned and nodded at him. "I think that I keep spare bugs in the base," she replied cheerily, feeling ridiculously pleased by the announcement of McKenna Hall's engagement.

"Great," Oliver grinned back.

"Great," she repeated, smiling back. They stayed smiling stupidly at one another for a while, until Dig cleared his throat pointedly and they snapped out of their reverie to get back to work.

* * *

"Thea, sweetie," Aly gave a tired smile to the younger girl. "Hungry? I've got a hot dog craving and there's this great vendor about five minutes' walk away."

Thea put the last of the blankets she had been folding on top of the pile, straightening up with a sigh. "Oh, that sounds like _heaven_ ," she groaned. "I'm starving."

"Just pull off your scrubs and we can head then," the nurse urged the heiress. "I'll put the blankets in the cupboard."

Thea nodded and thanked her friend before hurrying off, returning soon after with her purse in hand as she shrugged on her designer jacket.

They chatted casually as they made their way to the hot dog stand where Aly spoke to the vendor, Hank, for several minutes about their children before the two women began walking back to the clinic again.

"Mmm," Thea moaned after swallowing her first bite. "Who knew that street meat could taste so delicious? I think this is one of the best hot dogs I've ever tasted."

Aly smiled affectionately at the younger girl. "Well, I had a feeling you could do with a break from the clinic," she replied lightly. "Hank's been running that stand since I was a kid. His son was nearly put away for a mugging he didn't commit, but Laurel Lance got him off. I can't say I'm very fond of the woman personally, but she does a lot of good as a lawyer for CNRI. Or did. I heard a rumour that she's been suspended for some reason."

"I nearly got sent to jail," Thea pointed out defensively to change the topic, not wanting to discuss her brother's ex.

"That's true," Aly acknowledged. "But Hank and Ryan couldn't afford a dream team made of the best lawyers in the state, if not the country, to protect them."

"So what, I should feel bad for being born into wealth?" Thea grumbled.

"That's not what I'm saying," Aly answered gently. "What I'm saying is, you _are_ lucky, and you should remember that. You should use what you have, to help others who weren't born as lucky as you. Isn't working at the clinic showing you that?"

Thea nodded reluctantly. "I like helping," she admitted. "More than I thought I would." Some things such as folding blankets and carrying around various equipment were duller than dishwasher, and she had had to lock herself into a bathroom to cry last week after seeing a little girl with a broken nose and black eye, escorted by an older sister with an aggressive attitude and hand-shaped bruises on her wrist. It had been utterly heart-breaking, especially because of how nonchalant the child was, as if having her nose broken was a regular, normal, thing.

But feeling an unborn baby kick for the first time after Thea had helped a pregnant woman up to the gynaecology floor, the delight on a little boy, when she gave him a lollipop after he received his shots, all of it gave her a feeling of pride that made her glow. Not to mention she had made friends with two other girls her age who also worked at the clinic, Miranda and Amy. They felt like far more 'real' friends than any of her school ones ever had, and the only time they mentioned her money was when they were (gently) mocking her about it.

Thea had never really thought about what she'd do after high school. Unlike Ollie, no one had ever tried to push her towards joining the company. She had simply assumed, if she considered it at all, that she would be a socialite, living off her trust fund and spending her days partying or going to galas under the guise of donating to charity. Now, however, thoughts of medical school, or maybe becoming a social worker, kept creeping up. Something that actually helped, more than just tossing a couple hundred bucks towards various charities on occasion to have an excuse for a party.

She just wasn't _sure_ yet.

Aly gave her a proud smile. "You're doing really well," she complimented her. "Everyone agrees that you're working very hard. You should be proud of yourself."

Thea was about to respond when suddenly a guy in a red hoodie snatched her purse right off her arm and ran for it.

"Hey!" she yelled, dashing after him.

"Thea, wait, don't!" Aly cried, also following. They cornered him at a nearby chain-mail fence, and Aly stepped forward with a stern, maternal look. "Give back the purse, and we won't press charges," she offered.

The guy scoffed, and then grabbed the fence, ignoring how the metal dug into his hands in favour of jumping over and escaping. As he ran off, his wallet chain snagged on the fence, and Aly unwound it, handing it to Thea.

"If you give this to the cops, they'll probably be able to track him down," she suggested.

"Good," Thea gave a firm nod, shoving the chain into her pocket. "'Cause I love that purse. I want it back."

"And this is why I said not to bring anything you weren't willing to lose with you," Aly reminded her lightly. "Come on, we need to hurry back. I'll take you to the station on the way home and you can file a report there, 'kay?"

"Thanks, Aly," Thea replied gratefully, the raven-haired woman waving her off lightly.

"You're family to Tommy, which means that you're family to me," she replied easily. "It's no trouble at all."

* * *

_**The North China Sea: 2007** _

_The days and nights blurred together. Felicity's last clear memory was of Sara's terrified expression and loud scream as she was engulfed by the waves pouring into their shared bedroom on board the "Queen's Gambit." After that, everything became a blurry mess of dark and light sky, the uncomfortable bobbing of the lifeboat on the ocean, and the voices of her companions._

" _Felicity, Felicity honey," Robert's voice, hoarse from dehydration and full of worry, dragged her back to consciousness yet again. "You need to drink. Drink sweetheart, that's it."_

_She tried her best, but she was so weak, too weak to even swallow properly, and she could feel it trickling down her chin and neck, just as much as it trickled into her mouth._

" _What the hell are you doing?" she heard the crew member, Gus she thought his name was, snarl. "That's all we got left!"_

_Really? She wondered vaguely. Something about the fact that they were surrounded by water and yet were probably going to die of dehydration seemed absurdly funny to her. If she wasn't so exhausted, she might have laughed at the dark irony. As it was, she was too weak even to cry over the death of her dearest friend, her surrogate sister, or even the fact that she was going to die in the middle of the North China Sea, half-way across the world from her husband and son._

" _-anyone is going to live through this, it's gonna be her!" Robert snapped back defiantly before turning back to her. "Felicity, honey, be strong," he urged her. "You're gonna survive this, sweetheart. Felicity, come on, wake up. I need to tell you the truth."_

_Groaning, Felicity forced her eyelids to crack open, squinting at her father-in-law's blurry form and wishing she wasn't so farsighted._

" _That's it," he murmured, patting her cheek. "Listen carefully, Lissy. You need to know the truth. I'm so sorry. I thought I'd have more time. I'm not the man you think I am. The company, our family's fortune, none of it was built on the honour you believe in. I didn't build our city. I failed it. And I wasn't the only one."_

" _I don't understand," she whispered through dry, cracked lips. She was so weak from blood loss and the lack of food and water over the past few days that even getting out those few words seemed like an act of Hercules._

" _Take this, Felicity," Robert urged, pushing a small notebook with a leather cover into her hands. "It explains everything."_

" _I don't-" she began to repeat, but he didn't let her finish._

" _You need to survive this, Felicity," he urged. "Survive, get back home. Right my wrongs, protect our family." Then suddenly he was whipping out a gun and Felicity found the strength to scream in shock as she watched him shoot Gus in the forehead, sending the man's body falling over the side of the lifeboat and into the water. "Tell our family I love them," Robert urged her as he raised the gun to the side of his head. "A parent's duty is to die for their child if necessary._ _ **Survive**_ _, Felicity."_

" _NO!"_

' _BANG!'_

* * *

Two days and a failed attempt at capturing the Dodger later, Felicity entered the charity gala on Oliver's arm. It was the first time since her return that she had attended any sort of function as his date, and her heart rate was up a bit, even knowing that they were only doing so for convenience and to divert suspicion.

She wore a floor-length gold dress that hid the leather pants she had on underneath paired with a black shawl that covered the scars on her arms and the dragon tat peeking out, and her hair was in a crown braid. She had chosen it based on her anticipating a fight with the thief, and of course the ever-present need to shield the marks marring her body from curious eyes.

She met up with Dig near the buffet table, Felicity casually checking on the tracker while Oliver drifted off to speak with a QC investor.

"Tracker's online, I've got a good signal but no movement yet," she whispered to her partner.

"Police are here too," Dig added, giving a discreet head motion towards the undercover cops. "The bait attracted them, anyway."

"Not exactly the bait I'm looking to catch," Felicity hummed.

He inclined his head in acknowledgement. "By the way, I have your bag," he stated, shifting his arm to show her. Felicity gave a satisfied smile, patting his arm appreciatively.

"Dig, I don't know what I did to deserve you, but I'm sure as hell glad that I did it," she told him cheerfully. She had a thing about keeping her bag nearby. It didn't just have her vigilante outfit in it (her other weapons were in the car). It was also stuffed full of emergency supplies, an encrypted satellite phone and spare weapons, just in case. Never again would Felicity be stranded somewhere without any defence or way to call for help. Dig knew how important the bag was for her, and he'd also understood, when she first handed it to him, that doing so was her way of saying 'I trust you' to him.

He smirked and shrugged. "Well, we're in this together now," he said.

Suddenly her phone let out a beep and Felicity hissed a curse. "Tracker's on the move!" she hissed in warning, the two of them peering around in search of a man who matched her description of the man who'd thrown a bomb collar at her the night before.

They saw Oliver first. He rushed up to them, pale and, to Felicity's horror, with a collar around his neck.

"I think I have a problem!" he hissed at them; eyes wide with barely-restrained panic.

"Come on, we need to get out of this room," Felicity replied quickly, herding him to a nearby, empty, side-room.

"Stay back, if this thing goes off...!" Oliver warned them, one hand against the bomb collar and the other held out to ward them off while he skittered backwards until his back hit the wall.

"That's not gonna happen, you're going to be fine," Felicity insisted, stamping down on her panic and switching into 'warrior' mode, where she shoved all her emotions into a box to concentrate on the problem at hand. She had learned the hard way not to let emotional attachments interfere with her decisions.

But it was _so. much._ harder when it was the life of the man she loved on the line.

"Tracker's on the move," she informed them briskly after glancing at her phone. She quickly shoved it into Oliver's hands, hoping it would prevent him dwelling on the bomb around his neck while Dig tossed her the bag as he bent to examine the circuit.

"I need clear, concise instructions, Oliver," she ordered him as she yanked on the wig and mask set, barely bothering to adjust it. "Okay? Do _not_ panic. Panic is the worst enemy you have. Focus on directing me, got it?"

He nodded shakily, and she quickly spun to run off, now dressed in her leathers with the Bluetooth in her ear. She arrived in the alleyway just beside the building, tugging the tarp off her bike and swinging her leg over it.

"Alright, go," she ordered. "Oliver, tell me."

"Heading towards Adams and O'Neil," Oliver replied, voice shaky. "At the speed he's going, he's gotta be in a vehicle."

Felicity kicked her bike into gear and surged onto the road, listening to her husband's tense directions. "Got him!" she exclaimed triumphantly when she came on the van driven by the Dodger. He caught sight of her in his side-window and sped up to try and avoid her.

But Felicity had received training in this sort of thing from ARGUS and her bike was more maneuverable. She pursued him for a block and a half before running him off the road and making the van flip over. He was climbing out of the window when she approached.

"Don't do anything stupid!" he called to her as he stood, raising the detonator warningly and wearing a smug smile. "I had the foresight to collar up a particularly inquisitive young man. I presume he's a friend of yours. Touch one hair on my head and he loses his. You've got quite the choice to make, don't you?"

Felicity reacted, quick as lightning, flinging one of her wrist arrows at the man and slicing through his arm, making him yell in pain and stare in horror at his bleeding, useless, arm.

"Good luck ever using that hand again with a severed median nerve," she drawled, smirking at him coldly. "Never mind pressing that button." She stalked forward and yanked the detonator away from him, pressing the button to release the collar and hearing Oliver's "Oh, thank God!" from over the Bluetooth.

"Why are you doing this?" the Dodger demanded. "What's the difference between the two of us? We both only steal from the rich!"

Just as he finished speaking, he whipped up his taser. Felicity had been expecting the act, however, and she swiftly grabbed it and turned it back on him, sending him to the ground. She glared down at him. "I don't steal for myself," she hissed. "And I _never_ threaten others to do my work for me. _That's_ what separates the two of us."

* * *

"Sooo," Thea's voice was full of mischief when she spoke, her voice stopping Oliver in place before he could enter his bedroom.

He cast a wary, fond smile at his younger sister. "So, what?" he asked, quietly hoping this whole thing wouldn't last long. He was exhausted after the stress of having a bomb snapped around his neck, and his chest was throbbing from where he'd been shocked by the Dodger. It was his own fault, he supposed. He hadn't really thought through his actions. He had simply seen the jewel being removed from its case and stalked up to the slim Brit to demand it be put back in place. The next thing he knew, he was waking up with the Dodger smirking smugly at him and a bomb wrapped around his throat.

It had been terrifying, yet the knowledge that he had contributed, even in such a small way, to taking down a thief and a killer, filled him with a sense of satisfaction he'd never felt before.

"How was your date with Lissy?" Thea demanded, eyes sparkling excitedly. "Are the two of you back together again? Did you kiss? Are-?"

"Thea, Thea, settle down!" Oliver chuckled, waving his hands at her in a soothing motion. "You're as excited as Will on Christmas Day. And it wasn't a date, we just both realized we were planning on attending and decided it'd be easier to go together. Better company." But despite his words, he knew there was probably a silly grin hanging on his lips when he contemplated their earlier parting.

" _I'm glad you're okay," Felicity murmured, glancing up at him through her lashes. "I never meant to put you in danger."_

" _I know, Lissy," he replied lowly. "I'm fine, I swear. Not even freaking out."_

" _Yeah, you're remarkably composed for somebody who almost got decapitated two hours ago," she smirked._

" _Well, once you went after him, I knew that everything would be okay," Oliver said, reaching out to tuck a loose curl behind her ear._

" _Oh?"_

" _You never let me down," he reminded her. "I trust you."_

_She swallowed heavily, and they stared at each other for several long moments before his phone buzzed with a message from Moira, and she quickly smoothed out her skirt._

" _See you tomorrow?"_

" _Tomorrow," he agreed with a nod._

"Oh, come on," Thea whined, breaking him out of his memories. "You gotta give me more details than that, Ollie! There's no such thing as platonic when it comes to you and Lissy, and you know it."

He chewed the inside of his lip before admitting, "I think that we might be making progress," he revealed. "Or we're starting to, at least. She's, she's beginning to open up to me a bit."

She lit up in excitement, flinging her arms around him in a tight hug. "Oh, I'm so glad," she declared. "This is brilliant! Best news I've heard in ages!"

"Yeah, I'm pretty glad too," Oliver agreed. Maybe this whole crusade would help in more personal ways as well, not just in saving the city and redeeming his dad's sins.


	13. Resurrection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waller's warning of an assassin's arrival leads to a series of events that triggers a rush to save a life and causes devastation to Dig and guilt to Felicity

Resurrection means that the worst thing is never the last thing.

-Frederick Buechner

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow. As always, I'm glad that everyone's enjoying this. This chapter was really determined to not come into being.** **Finally managed to get it out, though. Hope it lives up to my usual standards.**

**(BTW: The bit where it says that Amanda Waller sent Felicity the warning of Barrera's arrival is borrowed from Jess-S's Felicitas series. The Chinese characters tattoo that Felicity has is different to the ones Oliver had in canon.**

**Also, I feel I should mention that while a lot of canon!Oliver and Artemis!Felicity's island backgrounds parallel each other, there are differences and I won't be going past season 2 in this rewrite, because I think that post S2, save for the Olicity relationship, things just go downhill.)**

**Chapter Thirteen**

**Resurrection**

She was in the middle of a spar with Dig with when her ARGUS phone rang, causing her to break it off.

"Who's that?" her partner inquired.

"A contact," was Felicity's grim reply. "One I hate to talk to." Partially because Amanda Waller reminded Felicity alot of herself in many ways, and it was disconcerting. She could only pray that Felicity herself never got to the point that she considered killing a plane full of innocent people an acceptable trade as long as she took down one criminal (even one as dangerous and bloodstained as Chien Na Wei).

"What do you want?" she demanded coldly. Her relationship with the Director of ARGUS was a tense one. If she had it her way, she'd never even think Waller's name. But she didn't. She held a grudging respect for the other woman, in spite of Waller using her family as hostages to make her work for ARGUS back in 2010, and the bridge was far too useful to burn.

"Smoak," Waller greeted her just as coldly. They respected each other's skills, but neither of them would ever like each other. Felicity would probably be more likely to declare her love for Laurel Lance than take a bullet for Amanda Waller. "The Spanish assassin, Brutalé."

"I know him, Barrera's on the List," Felicity acknowledged. "You know his location?" There would be no other reason for Waller to call about him.

"He's landing at a helipad in twenty minutes," Waller replied. "An hour ahead of his scheduled arrival. SCPD is en route, but they're not good enough to take down Barrera. Do us both a favour and take him out, understood? I'm having the details sent to you now." She hung up the phone, and a second later, the phone pinged with the arrival of the message.

"Well?" Dig pressed, raising an eyebrow at her from where he stood with his arms crossed over his broad chest.

Felicity rushed to get ready as she responded. "My contact just alerted me that the assassin Guillermo Barrera is about to touch down in Starling. I gotta cross him off the List, ASAP."

"I'll be standing by," Dig promised as she ran out the door.

* * *

"-man is as good as," Barrera was saying into his phone as she swung herself onto the helipad. She announced her presence with an arrow that shot the phone from his hand, causing him to turn to her. "Ah, the so-called Archer of Starling City," he hummed, unimpressed or concerned. Arrogant idiot should have stayed in Puerto Rico. She wouldn't have gone after him then.

"Guillermo Barrera," she growled at him through the voice modulator. " _You have failed this city_."

"And _you_ have built quite a reputation," he replied as a pair of knives appeared in his hands.

"You should have stayed overseas," Felicity hissed at him as she readied herself to fight, her mathematical mind already laying out different plays and strategies that let her win without falling off the roof.

"I thought about it," he admitted before grinning sharply. "But then I remembered- _I've_ got a reputation, too."

She shot another arrow at him, but he was fast and he used his knives to knock them off-course. Meanwhile, Felicity raced towards him, still firing arrows. Once they were in range, she whipped out her katana and changed weapons. After that, despite his (considerable) skill, it was only a matter of time before she sunk her sword through his chest.

She watched dispassionately as he let out a familiar death gurgle, blood flecking his lips, before she yanked the sword out again and wiped it clean on his jacket after he had fallen to the ground. She could hear the police sirens signalling the cops' rapid approach, and she made quick work of her escape, pausing long enough to snatch up Barrera's phone before ziplining away on her bow, using her Archer phone to alert Amanda that she'd eliminated their mutual target.

* * *

She arrived back at the base in time to see Diggle throw Oliver to the floor, where he landed heavily on his side with a grunt.

"The trick is to keep your weight evenly distributed," Dig explained as he pulled Oliver back to his feet. "It makes you harder to knock over."

"I thought that the trick was to avoid getting into fights," he groaned, rubbing his shoulder.

"Yeah, well, Starling City's not the kind of place where you can talk your way out of trouble," Dig pointed out matter-of-factly. "Besides, if you're going to be working with us, you gotta be able to handle yourself... At least a little bit."

She stalked down the stairs, deliberately creating footsteps in order to alert them to her return. "Definition of insanity is trying the same thing over and over again, Dig," she called to her partner as she sashayed into the lair. "You're not the first to try and teach Oliver to be a fighter, and it never works. Give 'im a taser and hope for the best."

Oliver shot her a disgruntled look as she shrugged innocently.

"How'd it go?" Dig asked curiously as she set down her bow and katana.

"How'd what go?" Oliver wondered, glancing between them. They'd only found out last minute from Waller's call that Barrera was about to arrive, and Oliver had not yet arrived when Felicity raced out to deal with the assassin.

"Badly for him," she stated succinctly.

"Who's him?" Oliver pressed.

"A Spanish assassin for hire with a fondness for knives," Felicity answered as nonchalantly as she could, not looking at her husband as she sat in her computer chair. Tonight marked her first kill since he'd joined the team, and she didn't know how he would react to it. "His name was Guillermo Barrera, codenamed Brutalé by Interpol."

" _Was_?"

Diggle was less concerned about Barrera's health, and more about why he had come to Starling City in the first place. "So we can't ask him about his intended target?"

"No," she huffed, equally as annoyed by that fact. "I didn't get the chance to question him, given he went for my throat straight away. Which is why I need to hack his phone. Barrera's world class. He kills high profile targets. And whatever job he was hired for isn't finished. We need to figure out who he was here to kill, and fast. They're probably still in danger."

"What about Tommy's dinner," Oliver pointed out. "You said that you'd come."

"Shit," Felicity muttered, running a hand through her golden locks and briefly closing her eyes. This whole double-life thing was _exhausting_. "Okay, just give me a few minutes to hook this up to one of my programmes, it doesn't need me to oversee the decryption. Then I'll shower quickly and be ready to go, alright?"

"Okay," he agreed. She tried not to dwell on the troubled look in his eye as she hurried through her tasks.

Thankfully, Felicity was able to doll herself up in less than twenty minutes, and within half-an-hour of her return from taking out Barrera she was wearing a full-length red dress with a long slit on one of the legs and a sweetheart neckline that disguised her Bratva tattoo, leaving her hair to fall in loose curls around her neck with the comforting weight of a knife on each thigh and a garrotte hidden in her bra.

Plus, she knew damn well that she could probably kill someone with the heels on her stilettos if she wanted to. Or her bare hands if necessary.

She gave a forcibly bright smile to Oliver when she exited, Diggle having already left to babysit AJ while Carly met up with an old school friend.

"Ready to go?" she asked softly, relieved to see the unhappy glint in his eye had disappeared while she was changing.

"Yeah, ready," he agreed, and they left the foundry in silence after she had double-checked the decryption was running properly.

"I had to do it," she said quietly in the car, unable to bear the thought of him being upset with her over somebody like Guillermo Barrera, codenamed 'Brutalé' for his vicious and painful kills. "I know you don't like it, but if I'm in a fight, I have to do what I have to do to put my opponents down. I promised you that I would always fight to get back to you and Will, and this is a result of that. If I didn't kill him, he would kill me."

"I know, Felicity," he answered tiredly. "But don't-don't ask me to ever be pleased about you being in this sort of situation."

"I'm not remorseless, you know," she added. "No matter what people think. I always-I always wish there was another way. It's just, life's not that simple."

"It never is," was his pained reply. "Let's just put it aside, okay? Focus on enjoying Tommy's birthday."

"Okay," she agreed quietly.

* * *

"Welcome!" Tommy smiled warmly as he embraced first Oliver and then Felicity, kissing her cheek.

"Happy Birthday, buddy," Oliver chuckled.

"Thank you," Tommy grinned, accepting the offered gift. "Oh, this feels like a Chateau Neuf de Pape."

"It's going to taste like one, too," Oliver smirked, making Tommy chuckle.

"You are a true friend," Tommy replied mock-seriously. "Thank you."

"Where are the kids?" Oliver asked as Tommy led them into the apartment. Aly was in the kitchen, serving up the pollo pesto and pouring wine for them all.

"They're with their grandma," Tommy replied with a grin. "We're going out for a family dinner tomorrow night, but we figured they'd probably be bored tonight, seeing as Will wasn't coming."

"Sorry we didn't bring him," Felicity added. "I know I'm being paranoid, but in my defence, he was very flushed on Monday, and his temp was up, even if it was just a little bit."

"Oh, you're just being a mother," Aly called from the kitchen part of the room. "I'm terrible when it comes to the kids not feeling well. The moment I hear a sniffle I have them quarantined and bundled up in bed."

"Would that it was always so easy to keep your child safe," Felicity sighed slightly, looking pained. Aly gave her a sympathetic look.

"If only," she agreed. "Tommy, my love, help me carry in the plates would you?"

"Coming honey," he grinned, following her request and carrying the dishes in.

"Oh, it smells delicious," Felicity declared. "Are you sure you're a nurse, not a chef?"

Aly laughed cheerily. "No, definitely not," she confirmed. "But my mother taught to cook when I was very young, and I started experimenting as I got older. It's a good way to relax, I find. Do you cook at all?"

Everyone winced.

"Oh, no, I'm banned from all kitchens," Felicity replied lightly. "Though I'm excellent at barbequing now. And I can make a few simple Asian or Russian dishes. But only very basic stuff, with the recipe laid out very clearly and step-by-step. Cooking has never been one of my skills."

"It's one of mine, though," Oliver inserted. "Don't go getting better at it than me. I need to be able to do _something_ better than you, otherwise I'll lose all of my self-confidence."

"So your ego will finally be able to get through the door then?" Tommy jeered with a grin, making them laugh.

"Toast from the birthday boy!" Aly demanded once they had settled down again, passing everyone their glasses of red wine. "Go on, my love."

"To my best birthday in a long time!" Tommy declared, raising his glass. "I have finally discovered what has kept poets in business these past couple thousand years, and one of my dearest friends has turned into Lazarus and brought the sun back into my best friend's life with her!"

Felicity blinked rapidly and reached out to squeeze his hand quickly before they raised their glasses, took a sip, and the other couple kissed deeply but chastely.

Felicity's breath caught when Oliver wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer, leading to her automatically resting her head against his shoulder.

"Happy birthday, Baby," Aly murmured to Tommy with a loving voice, eyes sparkling. The two were definitely on the road to a white dress and matching rings, that was for sure.

Just then there was a knock, drawing all their attention.

"You didn't hire any strippers, did you, man?" Tommy asked jokingly, disentangling himself from his girlfriend's embrace and heading for the door. "'cause Aly-"

He fell silent abruptly on opening the door, his tone cold when he spoke. "Dad. What are you doing here?"

They all exchanged startled looks at his words, and Aly quickly put aside her drink to hurry over to the door. "Mr. Merlyn," she said in a cool tone. "What a surprise. Can we help you? I'm sorry, but we don't have enough food to make you a plate."

"I'm afraid I can't stay," Merlyn replied.

"Good," Tommy stated in an uncharacteristically resentful tone. Not that Felicity didn't understand. One of the ways she and he had bonded was due to the both of them being abandoned by their fathers. They had even been about the same age, Felicity barely seven and Tommy eight. "Because we don't want you here in the first place."

"Well, I was hoping to talk to you for a moment," Mr. Merlyn said. Tommy, with a clearly resentful expression on his face, reluctantly followed his father out of the apartment. Aly hovered at the door, the air in the place tense as they waited for him to return.

It didn't take long. Five minutes at most passed before he returned, scowling.

"Baby, what did that asshole say to you?" Aly demanded protectively, embracing him and pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

Tommy shrugged. "Nothing important," he said. "Just some award ceremony that he wants me to go to. Like hell is _that_ happening."

Oliver shifted, but stayed quiet as Felicity squeezed his arm warningly. Oliver would never quite understand the scars that abandonment left on a child's psyche. His parents might not have always been available, but they were loving, and had never let their kids doubt that for a minute.

"So," Felicity said in a voice of forced cheer. "Shall we eat?"

* * *

Barrera had been almost as paranoid as Felicity. It took her programmes all night to crack the phone's encryption enough to just to get the last number he dialled, the person he had been speaking to when she attacked him.

Jade Dragon, the base of the Triad in Starling City, and a place that served an excellent Chow Mein. Once she had that, she made a reservation and went out to lunch, bringing Oliver as her cover. She had to admit, he was great at undercover work. Despite, or maybe because of, growing up with his face plastered all over the tabloids and TMZ, Oliver'd always been good at blending in when he wanted to be.

"That is-that is one big fried fish," he stated with a grin and raised eyebrows. She smirked.

"It's supposed to be authentic," she replied, more than a little bemused. "God, they couldn't have done something with it? The eyes are freaking me out."

"Seriously?" he snorted. "Of all the stuff you've seen, _this_ is what freaks you out?"

"It's weird," she insisted, stabbing a finger at it. "Come on, you can't say that it isn't."

"Fair enough," he acknowledged. "It is weird. Wanna try it?"

"Age before beauty," she drawled, gesturing at it with a smirk. It was almost like it had been six years ago, sans her 18-year-old babbling. He grinned amusedly at her before serving out a portion for each of them, more than half of the dish left-over.

"We can bring the rest home," he noted. "Will might like it."

"He'll enjoy learning to use the chopsticks, at any rate," Felicity agreed, emphasizing her words with the skilled use of the two thin strips of wood. On the island, they'd had no forks or spoons of course, and using their knives for both killing and eating wasn't exactly hygienic. Or appetizing. As a result, they'd ended up cutting up branches into chopsticks, and Shado had later taught her how to weaponize them too.

Oliver was quiet for a moment.

"What is it?" she asked gently, wondering what he was brooding on now.

He eyed her for a second before answering. "You have tattoos now," he pointed out.

She tensed slightly, giving a nod. "I do," she confirmed unnecessarily. "So?"

"Why _those_ tattoos?" he pressed. "I mean, I'm surprised you have so many in the first place, when you were always so reluctant to get them. But if you decided to get tatts, why those specific ones? Some of them are Chinese symbols, right? What do they mean?"

She exhaled carefully, forcing away the memory of hanging by her wrists in a broken freighter, a man who had previously been an older brother-like friend ordering her be marked with a replica of his dead lover's dragon tattoo to permanently remind her of the fact that it was Felicity's fault Shado was dead. It hadn't mattered to Slade that Felicity had pleaded for Shado and Sara's lives, that she had begged Ivo to kill her, not the Chinese warrior or the blonde American ex-student. The year and a half they had spent relying on one another for survival hadn't been relevant after that. Not with the grief and Mirakuru having ripped his sanity to shreds.

Had they not injected him, then things would have been different. As far as Felicity could tell, the Slade she had both hated and loved as a brother had died the minute that they injected him with the Mirakuru. It would have been kinder to everyone if they had simply slit his throat and given him a quick death, as she had later done for Taiana.

But they hadn't, and Felicity had to live with the painful consequences of the night of Shado's death, one of the worst nights of her life.

She took a sip of her water before answering in a carefully neutral tone. "Together, they don't mean anything. They're just nonsense. But separately, they have significance. The top one, the first one, is shēng cún, meaning 'survive'. The next is lì liàng, meaning 'strength' or 'force', the third is 'jì de', remember. Then the last is zhàn dòu, 'fight'. The dragon tattoo is to honour a friend, the woman who taught me to shoot, the canary is for Sara, and the star I got for other reasons I would prefer not to discuss right now."

It was the most information about her time away that she had given him, and he knew when she would and wouldn't accept pushing. Right now, with a mission to complete and a life to save, Felicity wasn't about to go into more detail than she had already. Oliver clearly understood, because he gave a nod, smiling slightly at her. She'd given him something, at least.

She smiled back softly, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

"I was thinking that I should talk to Tommy," Oliver stated abruptly, changing the subject. "Convince him to go to the Humanitarian Award Ceremony."

Felicity frowned automatically, grimacing. "To reconcile with his dad?" she asked doubtfully. "The asshole who abandoned his eight-year-old son right after his mom's death? The same guy who never gave a fuck about Tommy after his mom died, and who cut him off when he announced he was going to become a doctor instead of a businessman and who wanted to shut down his late wife's clinic, thus removing the desperately-needed medical care for thousands of people who can't afford to go to the hospital? That guy? Really?"

Oliver nodded stubbornly. "I know that he's not a good father," he admitted easily. "But he _is_ Tommy's only surviving parent, and he did seem to be trying to act a bit dad-like."

"'Trying', 'act' and 'dad-like' are all the key words there," Felicity pointed out dryly.

"Wouldn't you want to reconcile with your father if he showed up?" Oliver argued, startled by her sharp, firm answer.

"No. And that's not a decision I came to after the island, either. I made that decision a long time ago, Oliver. Even before we got together."

He stared at her, silently asking her why not.

She sighed and explained. They'd never really discussed her parents too much, even before the island (and she tended to consider even the time she had spent off it as 'island time' too) had turned her into the Fort Knox of secrets. It had just been too painful for her. The only thing she'd said was she didn't want to be either of them, even though she loved and missed her mom. In that context, she had meant that she didn't want to spend more time working than raising her kid.

"My father left, Oliver," she reminded him softly but sharply. "I remember it, you know? I remember him saying that he'd be back later, then just walking away, leaving me on my own in the park until an officer realized that something was off and took me home to Mom. And I remember how it destroyed her, how she sobbed for days when she saw all of his things gone, how the FBI broke down our door a little while later and we had to drive for days until we got to Starling to avoid any enemies he left behind. I remember how after that, I barely got to see her anymore, because she was working three jobs to try and keep our heads above the water.

I remember the grief of losing her, something that probably wouldn't have happened if she hadn't had to work so late or hadn't needed to sell the car for more cash. That's all my father's fault.

If I wanted to find him, I could. I have his name, I know the FBI has a photo, it wouldn't take much effort I expect. But I don't, because at the end of the day, anyone can have a child, but not everyone deserves to be a parent, and he _doesn't._ "

Oliver gazed at her silently, evidently absorbing her mini rant, an echo of the rambles she had always unintentionally reeled off when she was younger but bereft of the amusing innuendos.

"We haven't talked about it much," he said quietly. "But Dad wasn't perfect. I'm so angry at him, sometimes, when I picture what he must have gotten into, when I think of this, burden, he put on your shoulders."

Felicity felt her jaw tighten at that but didn't interrupt him.

"But I would still do, anything, if it gave me the chance to speak to him one last time," Oliver sighed. "I have to convince Tommy to at least go to the ceremony."

"If you feel the need to do so, then that's your decision to make," Felicity murmured. "But I don't agree. Malcolm's had a dozen chances to be his dad already. He doesn't deserve another."

Then she excused herself to go powder her nose, giving a pointed nod to Oliver, who feigned being relaxed and at ease while waving her off as she slipped into the back where she swiftly took out one of the men, and pinned the other, blinded by some spicy sauce being sprayed into his eyes, against the wall to interrogate him in fluent Cantonese with a perfect accent, ensuring that he would only know her to be a woman, but think her to be a Chinese native, not an American. When he passed her, once again seated across from a still-thoughtful Oliver, he dismissed her entirely.

Unfortunately, all the guy knew was that the assassination was set for tomorrow, leaving her with little ability to help. What was she supposed to do, just spend the day running around Starling in search of the Triad activity? That wouldn't help at all.

At a loss, she called Lance to warn him, but he was evidently pissed by her killing Barrera, and snapped at her to give him the target's name, but before that he wasn't going to help her.

Once again, she had to concentrate on the phone and decrypting it, now with the knowledge that the next evening was her deadline. (Bad choice of words, given the circumstances.)

* * *

Oliver headed off to spend the evening with their son, while Felicity buried herself in decryption, determined to find the Triad's target if it killed her. She hated the Triad, and had ever since her first dealing with them back in Hong Kong. This was not just a matter of saving a life, it was a matter of beating them, extracting payment for the pain she and the Yamashiros had suffered at their hands, such as when Akio had been forced to see his mother kidnapped by Chien Na Wei.

It took most of the day, but she finally managed to crack the encryption, muttering a string of curses in multiple languages when she read the Spanish words on the screen.

"Well?" Dig pressed anxiously, even as she shoved herself away from the computer desk to race over to the table where her weapons and wig were waiting for her.

"Target's Malcolm Merlyn," she informed him shortly. "Call Oliver, warn him. I'll warn Quentin on my way to the ceremony."

God, Oliver had said he was going to try and convince Tommy to attend, hadn't he? Felicity could only hope his attempts had failed, because the Triad wouldn't be very concerned if any bystanders got caught in the crossfire, so long as they succeeded.

"Target's Malcolm Merlyn," she growled into her bluetooth as soon as Lance picked up the phone. "The Triad are attacking the Humanitarian Award ceremony tonight. Set up a perimeter, but keep your distance. I don't want the police caught in the crossfire."

She hung up without giving him time to reply, speeding through the streets and cursing the distance between the location of the ceremony and SCT. Why did it have to be so far? Please, please let her get there in time. Much as she disliked Malcolm Merlyn on principal for abandoning his only child when Tommy had needed him most, the man hadn't done anything to deserve death, and Tommy would be devastated if Malcolm was murdered too, regardless of their estrangement.

Please let her get there in time.

* * *

**_Lian Yu: 2008_ **

_Felicity grunted with effort as she locked sticks with Slade, blocking a blow that would have otherwise swiped her legs out beneath her and cost her the spar. However, her efforts were for naught in the end, as Shado's entrance into the fuselage automatically caused her to glance over and establish the arrival's identity, despite it merely being the three of them on the godforsaken island, allowing Slade to knock her down during her moment of distraction._

" _Damn it," she hissed, grunting as she hit the hard ground and instantly began forcing herself back to her feet again._

" _You can't let yourself be distracted during a fight," Slade scolded her mildly, offering her a hand to help her clamber back to her feet. It was still a stern rebuke, but far gentler than it had used to be. He had softened over the past few months due to Shado's influence. And Felicity didn't think she was flattering herself when she said that she had improved a lot in combat over the past year._

" _And if she were a threat instead of a friend?" Felicity pointed out._

" _Then you'd probably be better off hiding behind me," he smirked back making the two women roll their eyes at him._

" _You've come a long way," Shado interjected, smiling at Felicity. "Don't beat yourself up."_

" _No, that job's for you two," Felicity smirked, hiding her pain at the brief kiss exchanged by her companions. Although the pair had become family to her over the past year, she still desperately wished, as they did, to get home. Their happiness together made her think of Oliver, and how much she missed him._

" _And I love our job," Slade grinned. "Not that I wouldn't trade it for a way off this damn hellhole."_

" _You're stuck on an island with two beautiful, capable women," Shado pointed out. "There are men who would kill for such a chance."_

" _Well, the scenery's nothing to complain about, I'll give you that," he smirked back, giving a pointed look at her chest, making both women chuckle lightly._

" _What did you catch, anyway?" Felicity asked her friend. It was Shado's turn to hunt dinner and she was busying removing it from the bundled-up blanket they carried their catches in._

_Felicity worried about cross-contamination due to them not being able to wash it very well, not to mention that they had an over-abundance of protein and fruit while lacking in other food groups such as dairy or carbohydrates. But it wasn't as if there was anything they could do about that, so she simply had to hope none of them would get sick from their poor diets._

" _A pheasant, and I found a few apples starting to grow on some of the trees," the Chinese woman reported with a satisfied grin. She had earned it. It would be a more filling meal than they usually obtained. They were wary of leaving the 'safe zone' they had established, and the animals were starting to be wary of entering. Spring had only recently begun, bringing more fruit with it, but those could only be eaten when ripe, and weren't exactly filling._

" _There's nothing more attractive than a woman who can hunt," Slade grinned as he took the pheasant from his lover? Or girlfriend? Whatever the pair considered themselves to be. Certainly more than 'friends with benefits', at any rate, to begin plucking and carving the bird for their meal._

_Felicity was about to mention that Yao Fei had caught and cooked a pheasant for her to eat (after she'd killed it) as her first meal on the island. It still stung to speak about the kind ex-general who had given his life for their escape and had repeatedly saved her from Fyers, but Shado liked to do so. They all spoke often of their loved ones back home._

_It hurt worse than Fyers' torture had, because Felicity was beginning to accept that she was going to die on the island, never seeing any of them again. But it helped too. She had an eidetic memory, but she still feared she would forget that lovely scent of baby powder that had been her baby son's scent, or the feeling of Oliver's lips pressing kisses to her own as he showed her the love he felt in a way he struggled to verbally express._

_But before the words could leave her lips, a beeping sound caught their attention, sending all of them into battle-mode as they rushed to investigate, automatically grabbing weapons that were never far, even for Felicity who was the least hardened among their group. She was far too weary and paranoid at this point. She'd learned her lesson well, the time a mercenary had ambushed her while she was washing, her knife out of reach on the shore of the cold lake. Had Slade not heard her yells and arrived in the nick of time, that might've been her end. It had certainly taught her to always be on her guard and expecting an attack._

" _What is that?" Slade demanded as they gathered around the electronic_ _beeping_ _. Although neither of the others were slouches with any sort of tech, Felicity excelled in it in ways they couldn't manage, just as they far exceeded her fighting prowess, despite her continuing improvement. As such, she was the one who grabbed it and began fiddling to tune it to show the reason for its' noise after months of silence._

" _It's Fyers' proximity detector," Shado told him. "We salvaged it from the wreckage, remember?"_

_He gave a short nod as Shado turned to Felicity._

" _It's been five months since we stopped Fyers," she stated. "He and all of his men were dead." They had made sure of that. Some of the mercenaries had survived the drone strike on their camp, same as Fyers, but not for long. Though they'd fled, not even a month had passed before their trio of survivalists/warriors had tracked all the remaining men down (or been tracked down by them) and dealt with them permanently._

_It frightened Felicity, how desensitized to killing she was becoming. Sure, no court in the democratic world would condemn her. Every kill she'd made had been in her defence or another, including when she'd hacked a drone's path and prevented the deaths of the hundreds of people on board Ferris Air Flight 637._

_Fyers' prediction of a worldwide economic collapse was a best-case scenario. Worse case, the American government took a Chinese general, even a disgraced and exiled one, firing on a civilian aircraft carrying God-knew how many American civilians as an act of war and retaliated with an official declaration. And that was if he was only able to destroy that particular plane. He'd had the missiles and the will (and the payment-induced desire) to shoot down a helluva lot more._

_But even knowing that, her own actions still frightened her. She was changing into someone she didn't recognize, someone her husband, who had always disagreed with violence, (save for that one paparazzo who'd been harassing and following Felicity for_ _**weeks** _ _before Oliver had gotten fed up after a snide comment on gold-digging whores, clearly meaning her) would be appalled by. Even if they did miraculously manage to get off Lian Yu, how would she face Oliver, tell him of what she had been through and done? How would she be able to be touched by him again, even if he wasn't disgusted by her, after what Wintergreen had done when torturing her?_

" _It could be an animal of some sort," Felicity pointed out, though even she was sceptical of her own suggestion. "There's an imaging interface. Give me a second to pull it up."_

_Their doubts were proven true when the heat sensor at last showed the image they wanted to see. Three clearly humanoid figures in a clearing they all recognized. By now, Lian Yu was as familiar to them all as their own houses would be. Maybe more so. Felicity had never paid so much attention to her surroundings back in America as she did on the island by necessity._

" _Those aren't animals," Slade stated the obvious. He gave them a dark look. "And we're not alone on this island."_

_They all exchanged suspicious looks. Nobody would willingly come to Lian Yu with good intentions, and the odds of yet another trio being unintentionally stranded on_ _**this** _ _island out of the hundreds scattered around the area was astronomical._

" _We need to check it out," Felicity declared firmly, setting aside the detector._

" _If nothing else," Shado added lowly. "They could have a way off the island, or to contact the mainland for help."_

_Again they exchanged looks that none of them dared to allow to contain hope. It had been crushed too many times for any of them to risk letting it rise again._

* * *

Aly panted for breath, her breathlessness more the result of adrenaline than fear. She thanked God for her two years touring Iraq with the Marines before leaving after getting pregnant with Lia, because it had allowed her to keep a cool head when the attack had come. Malcolm had shot her an unhappy look when Tommy had dragged her with them, but he hadn't protested.

The thought of her father-in-law-to-be made her shoot him a suspicious look, though he was too focused on assuring Tommy that they were safe to notice.

There was a difference between self-defence training, and the cold, uncompromising way her boyfriend's father had killed those two men. And they were almost definitely Triad, and therefore good fighters. Yet he had killed them with an ease that could only come from previous experience. Special Forces, maybe, or CIA. But Malcolm Merlyn's life was pretty much an open book to the world. Except, of course, for the two years that he had abandoned in his son and business in the wake of his wife's tragic murder.

Where the hell had he been, and what the _fuck_ had he been doing?

"Where'd you learn how to do that?" Tommy asked hoarsely, pale as a ghost. Her poor fiancé was a good-natured man, one fiercely opposed to violence (no doubt a result of his mother's premature and tragic death). Seeing his father's brutal attack had clearly freaked him out, not to mention being attacked in the first place. Aly had the advantage of her Marine training and experience in Iraq. It had been years, but those instincts never really left, and she was able to keep her head under fire. She would have tried to take down the two Triad assassins they'd met on the stairs herself, but Malcolm had acted first.

Something just as suspicious, because for his instincts to be so strong, he had to be making use of them regularly. She needed to contact her old friend. Gwen Jones was an old friend from boot camp. She'd been Aly's maid-of-honour at her wedding and had left the Marines after a bullet taken protecting a diplomat had damaged her knee too badly to stay. After that, she'd joined the CIA, and from what little she said, she was quite high in the ranks. If Malcolm Merlyn had any sort of connections to the intelligence community or the military, Gwen would be able to find them. If he didn't, then the source of his skills needed to be discovered.

Aly would never be able to trust her lover's father. She'd gone through the utter heartbreak of seeing her first husband be killed before her eyes, but the thought of leaving her grieving children behind had never so much as crossed her mind. She hated Malcolm for the neglectful way he had raised Tommy, and that he appeared to be trying to make amends now was still too little, too late in her opinion. And the coldness of his actions just plain disturbed her.

Her instincts insisted that something was very wrong about Malcolm Merlyn, and she always listened to her instincts. They had never failed her before now.

"What?" Malcolm replied distractedly.

"Fight," Tommy answered, before swallowing and correcting himself. _"Kill."_

Malcolm studied them both silently for several long moments before going for a panel, pressing on a keypad. But just as the hidden door was sliding open, the supposedly bulletproof window burst inward in a spray of glass and bullets.

"Tommy down!" Aly screamed. Acting on instinct, she grabbed her fiancé and dragged him out of the way to take cover behind Malcolm's desk, pushing it so it toppled over and gave them a barrier from the glass and bullets.

"Dad!" Tommy yelled.

"Tommy, wait it's not safe!" Aly exclaimed, trying and failing to stop him running to his father's side. She dashed after him, casting a worried look at the broken window.

The next few minutes passed in a blur. Malcolm had been hit three times centre mass, but the Kevlar had protected him (why was he wearing a bulletproof vest in the first place?). Then it turned out that something was wrong, he was dying despite not bleeding out. The Vigilante showed up, and Aly swiftly aimed the gun Malcolm had taken off the dead assassin, stepping between the Merlyns and the Archer. While she personally supported the woman's actions, she wouldn't risk Tommy, and despite her dislike and distrust of him, she would protect Malcolm until she had evidence that he was more than just an utterly terrible father.

Though the vigilante _had_ saved them from the Triad woman in the hallway, so Aly doubted she meant them any harm.

All the same, she aimed for a headshot.

"Stay back!" Tommy demanded, casting worried looks between Aly and the vigilante. Thankfully, he had the sense to realize that she was the one with the combat experience, and societal norms or not, he'd be a hinderance, not a help, if he moved between them.

The vigilante held out a hand to keep Aly from shooting, crouching to raise one of the bullets to her nose. "Curare," she muttered, before swiftly rising and turning to look at them.

"Don't come any closer or I'll shoot," Aly warned her.

Artemis ignored the threat. "Mr. Merlyn's been poisoned," she stated, her voice disguised by a modulator as reported. "An assassin named Floyd Lawton, Deadshot, laces his bullets with curare. I've dealt with this before. We need to dilute the poison in his bloodstream quickly, or it'll be too late."

"Stay the hell back!" Tommy demanded, voice hysterical.

The archer went on ruthlessly. "In three minutes he's paralyzed," she declared. "In four minutes, he suffocates. If you don't let me help you now, he's dead before anybody gets here!"

"She's right, Tommy," Aly informed him grimly. "I've heard of Deadshot from my Marine days. He poisons his bullets to ensure his target's death, even if they're just grazed by the bullet."

"Help," Tommy repeated. "How?"

"Fresh blood buys him time to get to the hospital," the vigilante answered calmly.

"A blood transfusion?" Tommy scoffed. "Here? That's insane!"

"It's the only way," she insisted. "He needs your blood. You're out of time. You need to decide _now_."

"It's the only way, she's right," Aly pointed out to him. "I'll keep the gun on her the whole time."

Tommy cast her a desperate look, then nodded. "Fine," he rasped.

The vigilante flew into action, snatching up the first-aid kit Malcolm kept in his office. It disconcerted Aly when she saw the contents. The bag was as well stocked as the ones used by paramedics or battlefield medics, if not more so. She understood why the man was paranoid after his poor wife's murder, but the things she'd seen were excessive, especially as Rebecca had been murdered in the Glades and her husband lived and worked in the best part of Starling, and had a dozen bodyguards, not to mention the security for MGG itself.

An office that doubled as an ultra-secure panic room, a hidden room with God-knew-what inside it, a ridiculously well-stocked first-aid kit and an apparent habit of wearing Kevlar. Martial skills that belonged to Black Ops operatives or CIA field agents.

There was something very off about Malcolm Merlyn, and Aly was going to find out what it was.

She watched silently, not lowering the gun she clutched, as Artemis set up the transfusion with a skill that spoke of doing so a dozen or more times before this. Though something about her made Aly suspect that she didn't have actual medical training, only what she'd picked up in whatever warzone she'd gained the rest of her skills.

Eventually, Malcolm began to breathe easier and everyone relaxed slightly.

"He's still going to need medical attention to fully clean out his system, you understand?" Artemis warned them.

"I know, I'm a doctor," Tommy murmured, not tearing his gaze from his father as the vigilante rose to her feet and went for the window, shooting a rappelling arrow out of it and preparing to zipline away on her bow.

"Thank you," Aly added just before she left.

"Yes," Tommy agreed, his voice hoarse. "Thank you."

"Just doing my job and protecting the people of this city," was the simple reply, before she zipped away. At last, Aly lowed her gun and went to her knees beside her future husband.

"Aly," he breathed her name shakily.

"It's okay, Babe," she cooed to him soothingly, embracing him and stroking his back as if he were one of her kids after a nightmare. "We're all okay. It's all over now, I promise."

To prove her right, the door burst open and a dozen SWAT members ran in.

"A little late," Aly grumbled quietly. She didn't dare say so in front of the cops dedicated to finding and arresting her, but thank God for Artemis. Aly didn't give a fuck what anyone else said, the Vigilante of Starling City was a heroine, and Aly would defend her to anybody who said otherwise.

* * *

Despite saving Malcolm Merlyn's life, Felicity felt nothing but exhausted defeat as she staggered tiredly down the steps into the basement of SCT. Her shoulders were slumped, and she was limping a bit from one of Chien Na Wei's kicks.

That was another reason to be pissed off. Last Felicity had heard of the woman, Chien was rotting in an ARGUS prison. She'd definitely be demanding an explanation from Amanda as to how the hell the damn woman had escaped.

Her husband and Dig were waiting for her at the bottom of the steps. Both looking relieved and pleased. In the back of her mind, Felicity wondered when Oliver had returned, and where Will was. Probably in bed. It was very late, much too late for a now six-year-old boy to be up. The two of them still lived at the mansion, so they didn't have to worry about finding a babysitter for him, and everyone was too pleased at what they perceived as Felicity and Oliver rekindling their relationship (which she thought they might be, actually. Or maybe hoped was a better word) to question them spending so much time together at night.

"So, how's it feel to save a one percenter?" Dig asked her cheerfully.

Her heart sank, knowing her news would crush him.

"Good thing Merlyn was wearing a vest," he went on.

She sighed, looking at him mournfully. "Merlyn's not in hospital because he was shot," she told him gently. "The bullets were poisoned. With curare."

His eyes narrowed and he stared at her questioningly. At the confirmation in her eyes, he gained a stricken, furious expression. "Lawton's alive," he stated flatly.

"I swear, I thought he was dead," she whispered, guilt making her feel as if she were about to be sick. "I nailed him right in the eye, he was lying in a pool of blood, not even twitching. I didn't think he was breathing, but I was more focused on getting you medical attention. I'm so sorry, John."

He shook his head. "Not your fault," he replied in a dead voice. Without another word, he stormed off, heading for the side door. She watched him go, deciding to give him time to absorb the news.

"What's the deal with this Lawton guy?" Oliver asked, frowning in confusion.

Felicity sighed heavily again, turning to him and rubbing her forehead tiredly. "Back in 2011, Andy Diggle, Dig's younger brother, was shot dead protecting a client from Floyd Lawton, a.k.a Deadshot," she informed him grimly, jaw tight. "Lawton was the one who shot up the Unidac auction last year. I thought I'd killed him. But I was wrong."

He could still read her so easily. He reached out, cupping her cheek. "This isn't your fault, Lissy," he insisted gently.

She gave him a bitter smile. "Maybe not all of it," she acknowledged. "But I shoulda made sure he was down properly. Then Dig wouldn't be suffering right now."

"Felicity-," Oliver tried to argue, but she cut him off.

"You should go to the hospital. Tommy probably needs you. And I need to make some calls."

She could see his reluctance, but he gave in when she promised to meet him at the hospital once she was done with her calls.

She hurried over to her desk as soon as her husband was gone, picking out the two encrypted phones she used for Anatoli and Constantine. No point in calling Waller, when they currently were even favours-wise, and Felicity recalled from researching Deadshot last November that Waller had Lawton earmarked for her Taskforce X. She wouldn't easily let go of that and Felicity currently had nothing more tempting save offering to become one of Waller's agents again, something she had no desire to do and mightn't even help in the long run.

Ana and Connie were safer bets.

She called Anatoli first. "Ana, это я (it's me)," she greeted him bluntly.

"ах счастье (ah, Felicity)," he replied. "мой любимый американец (my favourite American). Что я могу сделать для вас? (what can I do for you?)"

"убийца (the assassin) Floyd Lawton, Deadshot," she stated. "Он очень разозлил меня. это будет его последняя ошибка. (He has made me angry. It will be his last mistake.)"

"Понимал (understood)," Anatoli agreed promptly. "я буду распространять слово. он враг нашей организации (I will spread the word. He is an enemy of our organization.)"

"Спасибо, мой друг (thank you, my friend)," she murmured. "как всегда, ваша помощь и дружба неоценимы для меня (as always, your help and friendship are invaluable to me)."

"после всего, что ты сделал для меня, все, что тебе нужно, это спросить (after everything you have done for me, all you ever need to do is ask)," he assured warmly.

"I know," she acknowledged, switching back to her own language. She did, too. She had saved him from Ivo and Slade, helped him escape Lian Yu, and later paved his path to becoming Pakhan of the Bratva. To Anatoli, she was a sister, and a beloved one at that. "And the same for you."

"Indeed," he agreed fondly. "Give my greetings to your son, please."

"Of course, and mine to your wife and children," she replied easily, before hanging up the phone to call Constantine. It was pretty much the same conversation, except she was asking 'El Diablo' to put out feelers among his occult pals and other gangster contacts searching for Deadshot. She wasn't as close to Constantine as she was to Ana, but they had still bonded, still knew that if one of them needed the other, they'd be there.

And she would forever be grateful for the protection tattoo he had given her when she'd insisted she had to stay behind on Lian Yu to take down Reiter. That he had given her that safety was something she never intended to forget.

Once she was done with her calls, she set one of her computers to start running facial rec for Lawton, before finally leaving for the hospital, exhaustion pulling at her in way it hadn't since her early years on the island.

God, she was so _tired_. Was a break too much to ask? Even just a few days without some major crisis?

It certainly seemed so, if history was anything to go by.


	14. Huntress of the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An 'old friend' of Oliver's comes back in town with a vendetta. Later on, Oliver and Felicity become closer

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow. Glad that everybody's enjoying is, and I expect everyone will be very pleased with the closing scene ;-D**

**(Also, Dig and Carly aren't dating in this, though they flirt a bit. I'm a Dyla fan to the core, and I can't picture a person comfortably and happily dating their brother's widow without feeling stricken with guilt. That was a lot of the reason they ended it, after all.**

**Final note: I won't be including Alena Whitlock or any of New Team Arrow in this, because frankly I hated all of NTA, and by the time Alena entered the show I was seriously disappointed with what the producers were coming up with and wasn't really watching anymore, so I haven't watched her & don't know her character. All of Felicity's employees at SCT will be OCs, and not really relevent to the plotline.)**

**Read, enjoy and review!**

**Chapter Fourteen**

**Huntress of the Dark**

John studied the news article carefully for any details he might have missed previously. It was his third time to read it since he'd received the alert, but it wasn't much help. Starling newspapers didn't have the resources or desire to give much attention to the assassination of a president in a tiny, relatively unknown, country in the Middle East. John wouldn't even have cared, he could admit, were it not for the fact that Interpol suspected Deadshot to be the shooter.

The door to the basement opened, and he quickly hid the article, replacing it with the video one of Felicity's programmes had retrieved from the SCPD's archives instead. Of course, Felicity no doubt knew about every time he used her state-of-the-art equipment to research his brother's murderer, but she rarely mentioned it. Only when she caught him red-handed and promptly reminded him that the Bratva and her other contacts were all looking for him, not to mention her own programmes. The world was a small place, and for Lawton it kept getting smaller.

It just wasn't shrinking fast enough for John. Before, he hadn't had an identity to obsess over. He'd just had to put it aside and try to move on with his life despite knowing his brother's murderer had escaped. Then, he and Felicity had both been certain that she'd killed Lawton, giving Andy the justice his brother deserved and giving John the peace and closure he'd needed.

But now that knowledge had been ripped away, and John could barely even look at AJ. Every time he looked at the young boy he remembered that his nephew's father had been ripped away from him before AJ was able to remember him, and the murderer was still running around, doing the same thing to other kids.

Felicity was in a good mood, an actual smile, if a small one, resting on her lips instead of her standard frown that she wore when in the base. The company's opening had put her in an excellent mood all week. From what she said, she'd been wanting to open SCT since she was a little girl. It wasn't just a cover to her, as John had initially believed it to be. It was a lifelong dream coming true long after she had given up on the possibility. The only thing that occasionally pulled her mood down was when she remembered that Sara wasn't there to open it with her.

"Hey," he greeted her.

"Hey," she replied. He could see the concern in her eyes when she looked at him, but she didn't push. She had mentioned Deadshot to him a few times but hadn't pressed when he refused to discuss it with her. He'd overheard her telling Oliver that John respected her enough not to push about the island, so she'd do the same for him. He appreciated that.

They both silently agreed that whenever Dig was ready, he would talk to her about the whole thing. He just wasn't ready yet, same as Felicity wasn't ready to talk about the island.

"There's something you need to see," he informed her, gesturing at the paused video. "One of your programmes flagged it for some reason."

Felicity nodded, pulling off her brown leather jacket and laying it on the table before pressing play. They watched silently and analytically as the smirking stripper, if she really was one, shot the terrified man who'd followed her expecting a dance.

"Doesn't look as if she's the most experienced shooter, though she's definitely been trained in firearms," Felicity noticed, Dig nodding his agreement, both them with their arms crossed over their chest. "Intelligent enough to know that she needed a silencer, even with the music as cover. I can't see the guy's lips, but she asks him where her father is. Seems like he denies knowing anything, so she shoots him. She targeted him specifically. We got a name for the dead guy?"

"What dead guy?" Oliver called when he entered. His boots clattered against the stairs as he trotted down to join them.

John was still a bit worried about the guy being part of the team. Oliver didn't have the training needed for this kind of thing, and he didn't have that edge you needed even to defend yourself, having spent his entire life protected by private security and bodyguards. Plus, the relationship and tension between he and Felicity could have soured their team dynamics. Thankfully, there didn't seem to be any sign of that happening. The guy was improving in his skills, but in John's experience it took a personal trauma to gain that extra, cut-throat, edge. He wasn't looking forward to whatever event gave it to Oliver, and if he continued being a part of the team, he'd definitely go through some form of crucible.

"Some psycho stripper looking for her father shot some guy," Felicity explained succinctly, waving at the frozen image on the screen. Oliver paled when he looked at it.

"Helena," he breathed in a shocked voice. John and Felicity both raised their eyebrows at him.

"You know her?" Felicity asked. John was unsurprised to hear a hint of jealousy in her voice. It was the same reaction she had whenever Oliver met any other woman, even though she insisted they weren't together anymore. Despite her claims, she was still 'Mrs. Queen', and neither half of the couple had made any moves to start divorce proceedings.

"Yeah, her name's Helena Bertinelli," Oliver explained, still appearing shaken. "We met last year. Her father's business was looking to do some dealings with QC, and her dad sent her to talk to me about them. But I had to call an anonymous tip into the police on her when I found out she was planning to murder her father, and she left town to avoid being arrested. She, ah, she was very angry with me."

"Bertinelli," Felicity repeated. "That'll be why my programmes picked it up then. Frank Bertinelli's on the List. He was head of the Starling chapter of the Italian mob up until his arrest during the holidays." She frowned at Oliver in confusion. "Why does she want to murder her own father?"

He winced, running a hand through his hair. "Long story short, her dad had her fiancé killed," he explained. "She was planning on turning evidence on her father's dealings over to the FBI, but they thought that her fiancé was the leak and killed him for it."

"Ah," Felicity murmured, turning back to her screen and tapping a few more things.

"Looks like the stiff's name was Gus Sabatoni," Dig read. "Bertinelli's lawyer."

"Why would she go after his lawyer?" Oliver wondered. "Not like he did a good job or anything. Bertinelli's serving consecutive life sentences at Iron Heights."

"I don't know, but I don't like it," Felicity replied darkly, crossing her arms and shooting a concerned look at Oliver. "We need to find out why she risked coming back if not to go after her father again. You should go home why we call our contacts to try and find a lead on her. She might be after you for stopping her getting her revenge."

Oliver sputtered at that. "She's not _that_ crazy!" he exclaimed.

They gave him doubtful looks.

"Did this kid not just watch his psycho ex-girlfriend kill a man in cold blood or not?" Dig scoffed at Felicity, who also looked dubious about Helena's sanity. She wrinkled her nose in annoyance at the label and Oliver looked indignant.

"It was just a couple of business dinners!" he exclaimed. "Not, we weren't dating or anything." He shot a quick glance at Felicity who looked as if she were considering shooting Helena purely due to Dig's comment.

The pseudo-bodyguard couldn't stop himself smirking a fraction, hoping it might cause them to take a step forward. They worked together with an ease that came from knowing each other like the back of their hands, never letting their pasts affect them, but there were little things that drove him mad. Such as their blatant jealousy whenever the other so much as spoke to someone of the opposite sex.

"Oliver, just indulge us, please," Felicity sighed, her scowl easing away. "Just in case."

Looking annoyed, the billionaire gave in, turning and stomping back out of the foundry like a child throwing a temper tantrum, making Dig roll his eyes exasperatedly and grumble about naïve rich kids while Felicity simply sighed tiredly and picked up the phone she used for calling the Bratva, greeting the answerer with curt Russian.

* * *

Oliver knew something was off the moment he entered the house and heard his sister's voice. It was the one she used when trying to be polite despite feeling uncomfortable. Tensing, he made his way into the living room. His heart stopped when he saw his baby sister, one arm holding his son close to her side protectively, wearing a fake smile and speaking to, of all people, Helena Bertinelli.

Seeing the vengeful, dangerous woman sitting with his sister and son, Felicity and Dig's concerns suddenly didn't seem so ridiculously paranoid and over-the-top anymore.

"Daddy!" William cheered, rushing over into Oliver's arms. He picked him up, appreciating that the training regime Diggle had put him on had made that so much easier than it once was. His boy was growing so fast, it took Oliver's breath away.

"Hey bud," he greeted his son affectionately, holding him protectively and eyeing Helena warily.

"Hey Ollie," Thea gave him a strained smile. "You remember Helena?"

"I was just telling Thea and Will here about our dinner at Russo's," Helena smiled widely.

"I see," Oliver replied stiffly, eyeing her warily.

"Oh, Ollie, I kind of have this pseudo friend that's looking for a job," Thea snapped her fingers in remembrance. "I was wondering if there are any job openings at Verdant maybe?"

"Yeah, sure," Oliver agreed. "Just talk to Tommy. As a matter of fact, you can go upstairs and call him, right now."

"Great," Thea grinned. "You rock."

"Will, kiddo, Daddy needs to talk shop with Miss Bertinelli," Oliver went on. "Would you go and see what Raisa's making for lunch?"

Will grinned. "Yeah, okay," he agreed. "I'll ask her in Russian!" He turned to smile at Helena. "Mommy's teachin' me Russian!"

She gave him a tight smile that caused him to shrink closer to Oliver, who rubbed the boy's back soothingly. "Isn't that sweet?" Helena asked tightly.

Oliver turned to keep himself between Helena and his son when he put the boy down, kissing Will's forehead and sending him on his way. In the back of his mind, he made a mental note to speak sharply with the security team for the mansion and ensure something like this _never_ happened again. They had a list of people who were allowed in without question, and Helena Bertinelli was most certainly _not_ one of them.

Once Will and Thea were both safely away, he turned back to Helena. "Where you been?" he asked her coolly.

"Um... Barcelona," she walked closer, smiling flirtatiously at him. Thoughts of Felicity and the way she had so cold-heartedly murdered her dad's lawyer easily kept any attraction to her at bay though. He hadn't responded to her advances back in December, he wasn't about to do so now.

"Monaco, Budapest," she listed off. "I just needed to forget who I was. And how much I missed you."

"Do you mean like you missed Gus Sabatoni?" he asked boldly, seeing her expression darken with disturbing quickness. "I thought you were done with your father's organization, Helena," he sighed. "Because he's serving consecutive life sentences in Iron Heights prison. You got your revenge."

She scowled, clenching her fists. "He just cut a deal with the Justice Department to testify against the East Coast family," she announced. "In 48 hours, Witness Protection will give him a new name, a new life, and he'll be off the grid forever- untraceable!"

"I'm sorry," he told her sincerely. He really was. Bertinelli had been a terrible person, he didn't deserve to get off unscathed from his crimes. But his testimony could help bring down many more people as bad or worse than him. The justice system wasn't perfect, hence the necessity of Felicity's vigilantism, but it was better than anarchy.

"My father doesn't deserve a second chance," Helena insisted. "A second life!"

"I'm sorry Helena," Oliver repeated. "But I don't see what you want from me."

She raised her chin defiantly, eyes stone-cold and merciless. "I can't take on a phalanx of U.S. Marshals without help. Or find the safe house where they're keeping him," she admitted, before looking pointedly at him. "Fortunately, I happen to know someone with more than enough money to hire help for me, not to mention having access to an entire department of I.T experts, at least one of whom could _definitely_ hack into the FBI database to find out where his location."

"No," Oliver refused immediately. "Not happening, Helena. I won't be an accessory to murder." The whole vigilantism thing was different. Felicity only killed bad people, terrible people. People who were involved in human trafficking, murder, extortion, and worse. Yes, Bertinelli had almost certainly taken part in those crimes as well, but it was still different, because he was being punished already.

"Oliver, dear, I have a question about the party for Felicity's opening tonight," his mother abruptly entered the room, pausing in confusion at the obviously tense scene playing out in her salon.

Oliver forced a smile as he stepped away from Helena, closer to his mother.

"Oliver, who's your friend?" Moira inquired, frowning subtly.

"Oh!" he replied brightly. "Mom, this is Helena. Helena, this is my mother, Moira Queen."

"Hi," Helena smiled insincerely. "Nice to meet you."

"Helena was just leaving," Oliver said firmly, glaring at her, the angle keeping the expression from his mother's sharp eyes.

"Yes," Helena agreed. "I have a family engagement. I was just popping in to say hello, tell Oliver that I'd like to catch up soon now that I'm back in town."

"Excuse us for a minute, Mom," Oliver murmured to her, kissing her head.

"Of course," she responded as graciously as ever.

"I guess I will just have to be more persuasive," Helena whispered to him at the door. "Fortunately..." she cast a pointed look at the recent family portrait, taken at Christmas just before Walter's disappearance. "You have a family, too."

The moment she was gone, Oliver whipped out his phone and hit the speed dial for Felicity. "She was in my house," he snarled the moment she picked up, not even letting her greet him. "She wants to kill her father because he's flipping on the East Coast chapter in exchange for WitSec. She threatened our family if I didn't give her money to pay for extra muscle to do it!"

Felicity swore quietly as he went on. "I want Diggle to hire extra security for Mom, Thea and Will, right now!"

"He already did, Honey, just calm down," she said soothingly, not even seeming to notice the pet name she hadn't used since before the Gambit. It made his tension ease, but only a fraction. "He called a few private security friends already; they'll keep our family safe. You know I'd never take a risk with any of them, _especially_ not William. Just come back to the base, alright? We'll sort this out together. We're a team, remember?"

He inhaled and exhaled, using the calming techniques taught to him by the therapist his mother had forced him to go to after the wreck, repeating the action until some of his furious tension had eased. "Alright," he sighed at last. "I'm good. I'll be over as soon as I can."

"See you soon," Felicity answered softly before he hung.

"Oliver, darling?" he turned in his mother's direction, seeing her concerned look. "What was all of that about? You and Miss, Bertinelli was it? seemed to be arguing."

"She was sorta implying the two of you were dating," Thea added, also appearing. "But-I mean, Lissy-"

"We didn't," Oliver interrupted quickly. "At the end of last year, her father wanted to make a deal between QC and Bertinelli Construction. Obviously, it fell through after Frank Bertinelli's arrest, but before that he sent Helena to try and persuade me in favour of the deal, seeing as Walter was reluctant to do so. She, ah, doesn't like to take a hint."

"I see," Moira frowned, while Thea relaxed.

"She freaked me out," Thea stated. "She was being really pushy about coming in and waiting to talk to you. I was thinking about calling security. I didn't like her being in the room with William."

"Me either," Oliver muttered. "That wasn't a pleasant surprise to come home to."

"I'll speak with the guards," Moira announced. "It seems they need to be reminded that this our home, not a hotel, and therefore we must be asked before strangers are granted entrance."

Oliver nodded. "In the meantime," he sighed. "I need to grab William and bring him over to see Felicity." He couldn't help but smile. "She's so excited for the opening," he said fondly.

"Well, it's always been a dream of hers," Moira pointed out with a smile. "I remember when you first brought her over to meet us, your father fell in love with her the moment she began babbling about her and Sara's plans for SCT. They had everything planned out, their initial designs, their name and symbol, everything." She sighed. "I'm glad to see she's finally living out her dream."

"Me too," Oliver agreed quietly. "If anybody deserves it, she does."

* * *

Felicity hadn't really wanted to have a big party to show off her new business. Blending in had always been the name of the game for her, even after becoming a member of the famous Queen family. But SCT was QC's newest subsidiary, and the PR people insisted that the publicity was important to draw customers, so she'd given in and accepted the inevitable.

On the bright side, Helena hadn't made any moves since the morning. On the dark side, Felicity had to give a speech.

About an hour into the party, Felicity reluctantly made her way to the podium that had been set up (her office building wasn't big enough for the gala, so QC's PR department had rented out another building for the party.) to give said speech.

The crowd gradually quietened and turned to look at her as she braced herself, suppressing the instincts that were throwing fits over the attention that had been drawn to her.

"Thank you all for coming," she began after clearing her throat. "Tonight is, I shamelessly admit, one of the most important of my life. Most little girls dreamed of growing up to be actresses, or princesses, or things like that. But from the day I finished building my first computer at seven, I wanted to have my own tech company." She inhaled and exhaled, eyes locking with Quentin, who wore a pained smile. "A bunch of people have asked me tonight, why I chose Smoaking Canary as the name of the company.

The truth is, I wasn't the one who chose the name, or the symbol. It was my late best friend, my late _sister_ , who did that. Years ago, Sara and I started planning out this company, what we'd make, how we'd do it, what we'd call it, everything. I wish she were here to see our dream play out, but that's not possible. All I can do is honour our plans as best I can, so that Sara's memory lives on in this company, as well as in the minds of everyone blessed to know her.

Thank you. To Sara!"

"To Sara!" everyone echoed, raising their own glasses in response to her action.

The ending was a bit abrupt, not following the script given to her by the PR people, but she could feel tears threatening at the thought of Sara, and she knew she needed to get away before she broke down.

She found herself bumping into her surrogate father, who had a watery gaze. "I'm so proud of you, sweetheart," he told her gruffly. "Your mom would be too. And Sara'd be bursting with happiness. The two of you were always so set on this thing."

"I know," Felicity breathed, her eyes stinging. "God, I miss them so much. I wish Sara were here. I never wanted to do this without her."

"I know," he acknowledged. "But you're just gonna have to do it _for_ her, instead."

"Yeah," she sighed. "How's everything going, by the way? We haven't caught up in, like two weeks. You look tired."

He grimaced. "Ah, well," he sighed. "Dinah's back in town, visiting Laurel. Things are, uhm, a bit tense between us right now. Laurel is having some job issues. Nothing to worry about though."

Felicity nodded solemnly, resting a hand on his arm and rubbing it comfortingly. "Well, if you need to talk at all..." she trailed off, leaving the offer open-ended.

He smiled and nodded, kissing her forehead. "I'm so proud of you, sweetheart," he repeated.

"Thank you," she replied, hugging him tightly and burying her face in the crook of his neck before reluctantly pulling away and giving him an apologetic look. "Gotta go play hostess and mingle with my guests," she told him ruefully.

"Go on then," he urged in response, waving her off. She left, speaking to various guests, including Moira and Thea for a few minutes each before stumbling across Oliver, Dig and Helena Bertinelli.

The trio were tucked out of the way in the otherwise empty hallway, clearly arguing. Dig's hands were hanging at his side, clenching into fists, an obvious warning that he wasn't armed, while Oliver was running his hands through his hair agitatedly.

"-can't understand how you expect me to help you!" he was exclaiming when Felicity arrived.

"Help with what?" she asked brightly, earning a scowl from Oliver.

"Felicity, leave," he ordered. "This is private."

She frowned at him before giving a curt nod. "Alright then," she said stiffly, spinning on her heel and striding away. As soon as she was out of view, she rushed for her car where she grabbed her gear out of the trunk and rushed to change before heading for the side entrance, praying her husband could still read her mind as well as before.

Apparently so, because not even five minutes passed before the three came out, Helena leading the way with a smug expression. Felicity pounced immediately.

The fight didn't take long. It was clear that, although she had the passion to make up for her lack of training and experience, Helena was an amateur, especially compared to Felicity. No doubt Frank Bertinelli had ensured that his daughter had learned basic firearms and self-defence to protect herself, but other than that a mob princess would've been kept sheltered with bodyguards to protect her. Her rudimentary skills were no match for Felicity's battle-honed own, and soon the vigilante had the 'Huntress' as SCPD's files had named her, pinned against the wall, holding a knife to her throat and preparing to put an end to her.

Then Oliver snapped her out of the haze she sometimes fell into, where she forgot to restrain herself and simply aimed to kill, not incapacitate.

"Stop!" Oliver cried, grabbing the wrist wielding the knife. "You can't!"

"Let go of me," Felicity ordered him tightly, still struggling between her instincts and her mind. Which were right? The instincts urging her to kill her opponent, or the mind saying she should simply knock her out and leave her tied up for the police?

"No," Oliver replied stubbornly. "You're not a cold-blooded killer, I _know_ you're not! She's grieving, she needs help! You must understand the desire for revenge!"

Felicity clenched her jaw and gave in, despising the smirk on Helena's smug face. She drew back her brass-knuckle-covered fist and then swiftly punched the other woman's lights out, before zip-tying her hands and feet together firmly and hauling her form over her shoulder.

"I'll bring her to the station," she said curtly, not looking at Dig or Oliver. "Cover for me if anyone asks, 'kay?"

"Alright," Oliver agreed softly, his hand lingering on her arm until she was out of reach.

* * *

_**Starling City: 2007** _

_His father was in the living room, speaking seriously to an Asian man that Oliver vaguely recognized when he came in._

" _Dad!" Oliver called. "Do you have any cash? The pizza guy can't break a 100 and I don't have anything else on me." Before Felicity, he would probably have complained about that. Now he was more reasonable, and the guy had been perfectly polite and apologetic about not having enough._

_Robert pulled out his wallet as he replied. "Oliver, you remember Mr. Chen?"_

" _Right," Oliver lied, nodding to the man. "Hey."_

" _Hello Oliver," Mr. Chen responded._

" _Thanks Dad," Oliver smiled at his father, accepting the money and leaving. Soon enough, he had returned to his and Felicity's bedroom, pizza in hand. He had to pause at the door to stare adoringly in at the beautiful scene._

_Felicity was putting William into his cot, his wife dressed in an adorable pair of pyjamas with teddy bears on them, her hair swept out of her face in a ponytail._

_She glanced up, smiling and straightening when she saw him. "Hey, Babe, dinner's here," he said, at last entering the room and keeping his voice low. "He asleep?"_

_She nodded, casting a fond look at the baby. "Yeah, so keep your voice down, 'kay?" she urged him softly. "He's like you, wakes up at the drop of a feather."_

" _Guilty as charged," Oliver admitted with a grin. He waved the pizza at her, grin changing to a smirk at the eager look she gained on inhaling the scent. "Let's eat."_

_They went into the sitting room beside the bedroom to eat,_ _not wanting to risk waking their seven-month-old baby_ _. The room was reserved for their small family unit, one of Moira's ways to keep them from moving out, though they were still looking for a place together anyway, despite his mother's best efforts to keep them close and at home._

_But although she said nothing about whatever she was thinking, Oliver couldn't help but notice the troubled air around his wife as they dug in, though whatever was weighing on her didn't affect her appetite. Of course, Felicity tended to stress eat, though her fantastic metabolism kept her from gaining weight. It had only taken about two months for her to shed all her pregnancy weight, despite her not doing much exercise._

" _What's wrong?" Oliver inquired, reaching over to brush some hair out of her face._

" _Your dad asked me to come with him on his trip to China," she answered after a second, avoiding his gaze guiltily. "To present my new project to some potential investors there."_

_Oliver frowned. "Will's only five-months-old," he pointed out. "We just finished changing him to the bottle, and your milk isn't even dried up yet. Is it really a good idea for you to be gone so long?"_

" _I know," she sighed. "He wants to use the Gambit to get over there, but he promised that it would only take about a week to reach China, and the meeting would be the next day, so I could fly back. He'd be staying for a few more weeks though. Some potential project that he didn't want to talk about yet."_

" _You want to go," Oliver deduced, seeing the look in her face._

_She chewed her bottom lip, looking uncertain. "It's a valuable experience," she pointed out, curling into his arms. "I don't-Will's everything to me, you know that, but I-"_

" _I know, I get it," Oliver dropped a kiss on top of her honey-dyed locks, rubbing her back. "You don't want your career to be affected by him. It doesn't make you a bad mom, Lissy. All anybody needs to do is look at you with him and they realize how much you love him."_

" _So, you don't mind if I go?" she questioned him, meeting his gaze unsurely._

" _Well, I'll certainly_ _ **mind,**_ _" he flashed a grin and she responded with a gentle slap against his breast, reading his mind. "But I know how much your career means to you. We'll cope."_

_She bit her lip._

_Truthfully, he wanted her to stay. But since meeting Felicity Smoak, Oliver had learned what it was to love someone enough to put them first. Before her, at most Thea would receive that level of devotion from him, possibly Tommy. Now, Felicity and Will's health and happiness came before everything else for him. Seeing the desire in her eyes, he knew that he had to convince her to go._

" _It'll just be about a week, right?" Oliver reasoned. "You could do with a break, you deserve it. If you brought Sara along, you could make it a girls' trip. Book a spa appointment and come home afterwards. Will'll be delighted with the souvenirs you bring home for him."_

_Felicity grinned at him. "And you?" she asked teasingly. "Do you have any requests for souvenirs?"_

" _Chinese lingerie," he declared immediately, making her burst out laughing._

" _You're ridiculous," she declared fondly, eyes shining beautifully._

" _And_ _ **you're**_ _like sunshine," Oliver replied dramatically. "Bringing light into my dark world and turning me into a poet from your beauty."_

" _A bad poet, at that," Felicity answered amusedly. "And here I thought that English was the one class you_ _ **didn't**_ _fail in high school."_

_Oliver faked offence, making her giggle again and causing his grin to widen. Then he pulled her to him, pressing his lips to hers and sneaking his hands under her top. She responded enthusiastically, making him groan. God, he loved this woman. Whatever miracle he'd preformed to deserve her love, he was glad he'd done it._

" _When's this trip, anyway?" he mumbled into the kiss._

" _Two weeks from now," she panted._

" _Then we better start making up for the time we'll lose," he insisted, flipping them so she was pinned beneath him_ _and the couch_ _._

_She laughed, eyes sparkling like sapphires. "You just want an excuse for sex!" she accused him with a grin._

_He laughed back at her. "Since when do I need an excuse?" he retorted before diving down to kiss her again._

_He never regretted a conversation more than that one. For the rest of his life, Oliver would be convinced that if he hadn't persuaded Felicity to agree to go, she would have been spared the horrors and grief that followed the destruction of the Queen's Gambit._

* * *

Felicity was working late when she received the alert. She was alone, though she had several employees, a cheerful young guy named Leo Carson, two women, Liz Kirk and Lydia Waters, and an intern, Katie Jones, who was working as their secretary to gain experience in their work while studying Software Design at SCU. Finally, she had Dig as its' security (her security system was advanced enough that she didn't need anyone else.).

All of her other employees were recent graduates from college, Leo with a Software Design and Computer Sciences degree, Liz with a Bachelors in Coding and Cyber Security and Lydia having studied Computing and IT. All of them were clever and creative, and so far they all seemed like hard workers even if Leo was a bit of a jokester. However, Felicity still had to wait and see how they turned out.

Currently SCT was working on some basic starter projects mostly commissioned by QC, and (most importantly to Felicity) Lance Learner.

It had been Sara's brainchild, a programme designed to help students with dyslexia or other reading disorders. Basically, the Lancer (as Leo had nicknamed it) would be a pair of glasses-type objects with tiny earphones attached that would scan the page and then read it for the student, allowing them to study or read whatever they wanted. It was a difficult task, but Felicity was stubborn. It had meant a great deal to her late best friend, who herself had suffered from mild dyslexia, and Felicity wanted to honour her in as many ways as she could. Sara had done so much for her, and in return Felicity had gotten her killed. Honouring her was the least of what she could do for her surrogate sister.

While she worked on the coding, her search programmes were looking for Helena Bertinelli, who had escaped while being transferred from the station to prison. Her alert warned her about weapons' store being robbed just before her security system announced that Bertinelli was after beginning to try and break into SCT. The security system was fantastic, designed by Felicity herself, so she knew that the dark-haired woman would never be able to get in without her allowing it.

But Felicity wanted this whole episode over and done with, so she tapped in a command to the control pad, allowing the Huntress to believe she had succeeded in getting past the system. Meanwhile, Felicity debated her course of action.

Soon enough, the woman arrived in her office, aiming a shotgun at her with a wild grin.

"I understand, _Mrs. Queen_ ," Helena said the name mockingly. "That you're quite talented. I bet you can hack the FBI database and get the address of my father's safe house. Do it. Now."

"And why should I?" Felicity replied boldly.

Helena narrowed her blue eyes. "Because if you don't," she threatened. "I wouldn't be opposed to putting a bullet in that irritating little boy of yours. Now, Frank Bertinelli's safe house. Find it. Or will I be paying a visit to the Queen mansion instead?"

Felicity pursed her lips, beginning to tap on her keyboard silently as she fought her fury at the threat to her baby boy. She loathed helping the woman, but she'd come up with a plan while waiting for her to arrive.

If Felicity were to take Helena down here, it risked drawing unwanted questions and suspicions. The cops might notice the hidden door behind her bookcase leading to her base (a classic, but Felicity had a fondness for certain clichés, and it wasn't as if it didn't _work_ ).

And if she were to claim that the vigilante had saved her, when she had been the first to report a 'sighting' of her other persona, than the police might begin to wonder if she knew more than she was saying. Not to mention that in that scenario, she'd _have_ to kill Helena, otherwise the woman would no doubt reveal her abilities. From there, it would only be a hop, skip and a jump before the SCPD came to the correct conclusion.

As such, Felicity feigned fear and shaking as she pulled up a fake FBI site (used by government agencies in case of scenarios such as this one), and then gave Helena, not the address of Frank Bertinelli, but an empty house currently up for sale on the outskirts of the city. Then she allowed the vindictive woman to tie her wrists together tightly and knock over the chair to leave her lying painfully on her side.

"God, you're one weak bitch," Helena sneered at Felicity's (completely fake) whimpers. "Here I thought Oliver liked women with spines. Clearly I was wrong."

Felicity waited until she was out of sight before she broke free of the bonds and scrambled back to her feet, growling in anger. "I'll show that psychotic slut who's weak," the angry vigilante hissed to herself as she hurried to change and get to her Harley Davidson motorcycle.

Now she exactly where to find and take down the bitch.

* * *

Helena was screaming in rage when Felicity zoomed up and skidded to a stop in front of the house. The dark-haired woman turned to her, expression twisted with hatred and fury. Felicity didn't even get the chance to get off her bike before the Huntress was firing at her.

Instinct kicked in and Felicity moved like lightning, diving for cover. It was obvious to her that Helena was indifferent to any collateral damage she created, just as long as she got her target. The house Felicity had chosen to send her to was separated from others, but there were still neighbours close enough that the shots would be heard, meaning that the police would be on their way soon enough.

Swearing, Felicity readied an arrow and, the minute that Helena had to pause to reload her gun she jumped up and sent three arrows at the woman. Somehow Helena managed to knock two out of the way, but the third hit exactly where Felicity had aimed, the woman's thigh. Helena cried out furiously, collapsing to her knees as Felicity quickly rushed over. She subsequently punched Helena with her brass knuckles and knocked her unconscious (probably broke her nose too, at that). Then she took out the zip-ties she kept in one of her belt pouches and tied Helena's wrists, elbows and ankles tightly together before leaving her on her side in an uncomfortable position (see how _she_ liked it).

By then the sound of sirens could be heard approaching, so Felicity hastily got back on her bike (miraculously undamaged by Helena's assault) and zoomed away.

* * *

"The police have her in custody," Felicity informed Oliver later that evening, after driving to the Queen mansion and kissing William's forehead, before instinctively following Oliver back to thei- _his_ bedroom. "She'll be sent to Iron Heights."

"Good," Oliver nodded, one arm draped around her shoulder as she leaned against his side, an echo of old, happier, days.

"Thank you," she murmured quietly, not looking at him.

"For what?" he asked idly, playing with her hair.

"Stopping me," she said, a strained note in her voice.

He sighed, dropping a kiss atop her gold locks. "You're a good person, Lissy," he insisted. "Not some cold-blooded psychopath."

"I'm not," she paused and cleared her throat. "I'm not the girl you fell in love with anymore, Oliver. I've done-terrible things. You'd be horrified if you knew the whole story."

"Whatever you did, you did to survive in horrible circumstances," he argued back. "Nobody has the right to judge you for doing what you had to stay alive, Felicity. And I _certainly_ won't."

She looked up, meeting his eyes. "I thought about you," she revealed. "Every day. I wanted to come back to you and Will so much. I'd've done anything to get back home."

"The worst moment of my life was when they told me they'd lost contact with the Gambit after it sent out a mayday signal," he replied painfully. "For years, I refused to accept that you were really gone. And I would-I would be so worried, that you were cold or frightened or, or in pain. I'm so sorry I didn't find you. I should never have given up on you. I should have searched harder."

"It hurt," she whispered. "To come back and see-see that photo of you and Laurel at my funeral, and the engagement announcement. I knew, I knew you had probably moved on, but I still hated it."

"I didn't move on, not really," he disagreed. "I just-I knew I had to push forward. For Will's sake if nothing else. But I swear on our son's life, Lissy, that you were my first and last thought every morning and every night."

She exhaled shakily, burying her head in his neck and inhaling his scent. "Я люблю вас (I love you)," she breathed in Russian, words muffled.

He didn't say anything back, just kissing her head again before lifting her up and carrying her over to his bed, where they curled together.

Felicity's last thought before drifting off was that she'd always thought they fit together like puzzle pieces and it hadn't changed. She thought she heard him whisper 'I love you, Lissy' and kiss her forehead as she fell asleep, but it could've been wishful thinking.

Either way, it was the first proper full night of sleep, sans any nightmares, that she'd managed in longer than she could recall.


	15. Zhengjiu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The events of Salvation lead to Felicity and Oliver taking another step forward

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow. Thanks for all reviews, favs, etc. 'Zhengjiu' means salvation in Chinese, it's the name of the town where the photo of Jen Hunt (the woman Dinah thought was Sara) was taken.**

**Read, enjoy and review!**

**Chapter Fifteen**

**Zhengjiu**

" _Lawyers for John Nickels spoke to the press today,"_ the reporter stated, Felicity listening from where she was currently working out on her salmon ladder, pretending not to notice how Oliver's gaze was fixed on her. She couldn't see his expression to see what he thought, both of her gruelling exercise regime or her scarred torso, and even two months after he'd joined them she couldn't find the courage to try and see how he felt about her body now. It wasn't as if scars were considered attractive on a woman, after all, and yet most of her body was scar tissue.

" _They say they're pleased the D.A. declined to indict their client on charges stemming from the recent fire in one of Nickel's buildings."_

"I know this guy," Oliver commented. "Nickels is one of the wealthiest real estate developers in Starling City."

"He's also one of the dirtiest," Felicity grunted. "That building that burnt down last night? Wiring wasn't up to code."

"He might not have known that," Oliver suggested doubtfully.

"Then I guess he also didn't know about the seven people who have frozen to death in his other buildings over the past three years," she retorted. "All my research into him screams of him cutting corners for costs."

"Yeah, he's a real man of the people," Dig commented dryly.

Felicity reached the top of her ladder before releasing her grip and falling to land, catlike, on the ground. She straightened and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, ignoring the familiar throbbing in her foot.

"Not for long," she declared firmly. "The D.A. ignores this 'cause Kate Spencer's fucking the bastard, and the police can't do anything because all these slums are in the Glades. So I say, boys, that tonight, we cross Mr. Nickel's name off the List." She gave a challenging look to Oliver, who had expressed discomfort with her 'hit-list' on multiple occasions. "You ok with that?"

Oliver looked back at the screen for a moment before nodding. "Go for it," he replied.

* * *

But by the time that she arrived at Nickels' home, all that was left was some shattered glass, a kitchen knife abandoned on the floor and some ominous drops of blood.

"He was just gone?" Oliver asked doubtfully when she returned, burning with rage.

"Not gone," she corrected him angrily. "Taken!"

"Looks like Nickels was on someone else's list," Dig stated, arms crossed.

"Not a surprise after the fire last night, not to mention everything else," Felicity scowled. She headed for her computers, burning with anger. "I'll put together a list of Nickels' enemies, anyone who lost somebody in the fire last night-"

"He's a slumlord, Lissy, it'll end up being a list of all his tenants," Oliver pointed out. "Besides-" He faltered, and she turned to glower at him.

"What, Oliver?" she demanded. "You've never been shy about sharing your opinions before. Don't start now. Freedom of speech and all that, right?"

"It's just," he hesitated again before continuing. "You went there to threaten and possibly kill him, now you're trying to save him? How's that work?"

"I don't like the idea of there being somebody dangerous out there," Felicity replied stiffly, making her two partners scoff. She rolled eyes and corrected herself. "Somebody _else_ dangerous," she said. "Because usually, they're not as sweet as me."

Oliver scoffed. "Right," he muttered. "You're very _sweet_ nowadays."

"Why don't Oliver and I go and pick up some dinner," Dig suggested. "While you start working on that?"

She gave a curt nod, already absorbed in her work searching for Nickels. She paused and turned her head to glance at Oliver. "Bring Will with you to BBB," she instructed him. "He's in my office upstairs, Katie's keeping an eye on him, but he could probably do with some food by now."

Oliver nodded in agreement. "You want a burger and some fries?" he asked casually.

She shook her head. "No, just a water and salad'll be enough," she replied dismissively. She was too intent on her screens to see the troubled look in his eyes at yet another sign of her food problems that had sprung up since her return. Dig had brought it up to her a few times, but she'd always dismissed his concerns.

It was better if she remained prepared to survive on the bare minimum of sustenance. Just in case. Adjusting to the lack of readily available meals had been one of the worst parts of the island. She didn't want to go through that sick feeling ever again if she could avoid it.

* * *

_**Lian Yu: 2007** _

" _My apologies on my men's treatment of you," the man said. "They clearly need a remedial lesson on how to treat a lady."_

_Felicity eyed him warily, sitting tensely in her chair and not saying a word._

" _What's your name?" he asked genially. "I'm Edward Fyers, by the way." Something about him sent shivers down Felicity's spine._

_She'd learned early on how to quickly judge a person's character. It was why she had decided to trust Yao Fei despite him shooting her, and she didn't regret that decision, despite his strangeness. Who wouldn't be strange and brutal after God-only-knew how long in this hellhole of an island? Right now, everything in her was screaming not to trust the man in the tactical gear. Despite his pleasant smile, there was a cold look in his eyes that she didn't trust._

" _Felicity," she said, deciding to use her maiden name instead of her marital one, just in case. The Queen name was well-known, and she didn't want to risk Fyers deciding to ransom her. "Felicity Smoak."_

" _Well Felicity, how did you end up here?" Fyers asked her._

" _There was a storm," she couldn't keep her voice from shaking as she recalled what had happened. "The boat, it sank. I ended up here."_

" _I'm terribly sorry," Fyers said sympathetically. "Thankfully, we can help you."_

_Felicity didn't answer, stomach twisting into knots as she clenched her hand into fists beneath the table. Sure you can, she thought darkly. But what would you want from me in exchange?_

" _But first," Fyers went on. "I need to ask you a few things."_

_Bingo. She had been right that he wanted something from her. Knowing what happened to female captives, Felicity had to clasp her hands together to keep them from shaking in fear of the man questioning her, not to mention the masked man in the corner. "What sort of things?"_

" _Have you seen this man?"_

_Felicity managed to keep her expression smooth as she took in the photo of Yao Fei in a Chinese military uniform. She studied it for a few moments before shaking her head, gut instinct urging her not to give up the man who had helped her to this man with the cold, cruel eyes._

" _Are you sure?" Fyers pressed her._

_"I am," Felicity confirmed., furrowing her brow in fake confusion. "Who is he?"_

_Fyers' mask of pleasantness disappeared. "You're a poor liar," he snarled, leaning in towards her. "I've been polite. I'll offer you one more chance before my manners leave me."_

_Felicity recoiled, raising her hands defensively. "I swear, I don't know him!" she insisted, voice shaking and tears welling. "Up until I met your men, I thought I was on this island all by myself."_

" _Do you know what this island is named?" Fyers asked her coldly. Felicity shook her head timidly. "We're on Lian Yu...," he stated. "It's Mandarin for "purgatory", and I can make it feel like_ _ **hell**_ _. I don't know why you're protecting him. You're young, naïve. Perhaps you don't know why, either. Think on that when you're begging for death."_

_He turned to a masked man in the corner, and Felicity felt herself shudder in dread at what she instinctively understood was coming. A_ _**lot** _ _of pain. "She's all yours now."_

_Certain in the knowledge that she was doing the right thing by staying silent on the subject of Yao Fei, and armed with a lifelong hatred of bullies, Felicity somehow managed to maintain her silence throughout the torture._

_The whole, losing her voice from screams and sobs thing probably helped too._

* * *

Felicity wrapped her arms around her son and cradled him close to her chest, inhaling the smell of his kids' shampoo and revelling in the feeling of him in her arms. Even after being back in Starling for half-a-year, it still felt like a wonderful dream.

One that she desperately needed after this godawful day. Both John Nickels and Gavin Carnahan were dead at the hands of the so-called 'Saviour' of the Glades. There'd be no chance to save Nickels' life, but she might've been able to save Carnahan in another life. But something had gone wrong with her tracking programmes, and neither Oliver nor Dig had enough technical knowledge to know what to do to fix it, leaving them helpless to save the poor DA whose sole crime was not having enough evidence to convict a group of murderers. Nickels had deserved a chance to change, but he wasn't that much of a loss to the world. Carnahan certainly hadn't deserved his fate however.

Even now, it always weighed Felicity down to know she couldn't save everyone, no matter how much she wished it was otherwise.

"Mommy?" William murmured, his dark head resting on her collarbone. "Are you okay?"

"I just had a bad day, sweetheart," she sighed. "I really need a hug from my favourite boy."

"Me?" Will checked.

"Yeah, sweetheart," she smiled softly. "You. I love you so much, you know?"

"I know," he agreed. She tilted his head up to meet her gaze.

"William, it's very important to me that you know how much I love you," she said firmly. "More than anything. There is nothing I would not do for you. Do you understand me?"

Despite his affirmative answer, Felicity knew he didn't fully comprehend what she was saying. How could he? He was a little boy, one who had been sheltered from the griefs and tragedies of the world. He couldn't understand how she had pinned her sanity on the thought of him for _years,_ how he was her whole world.

People said that they would scorch the earth to the ground for the ones they loved, and Felicity knew deep within her, that for her son, she really would do it.

"Come on, sweetie," she swallowed back her pain and sense of failure. "Let's get that homework done, shall we?"

She balanced him on her knee as she guided him through his fractions, pride at his intelligence breaking through the tiredness and self-frustration at the knowledge of her earlier failure. She understood that she couldn't save everyone, but she could never quite accept that fact enough to give up trying. She hoped she never did. It was a sign of her humanity, in her own opinion.

Oliver knocked at the doorframe to her office. William's expression lit up in delight at the sight of him and he jumped down, running over with arms open for a hug. "Daddy!"

"Hey there, Bud!" Oliver exclaimed, picking him up. "How's my boy?"

"Good, I did my homework with Mommy," Will informed him. "And she checked it an' said that the sums were all right, an' I did them all by myself!"

"You're as clever as your mom," Oliver grinned, putting him down and ruffling his hair. Seeing the shadow lurking in his gaze, she bit the inside of her cheek, before rising from her chair and heading over to join them.

She'd come to terms with certain lessons years ago on the island, when Yao Fei died letting them escape with his daughter. But this was the first time since Oliver had joined the team that they'd failed, and he'd always been far more empathetic than he showed.

"Sweetheart," she said, running a hand through her son's hair. "How 'bout you go and show Katie your sums? I wanna talk to your dad for a minute."

"Boring adult stuff?" he asked, making a face.

She made one back. "Yeah, boring adult stuff," she sighed with deliberate drama before passing him the homework sheet. He was in a class with his age-group, but he received classwork from three grades above. It was a compromise, to allow his intelligence and social skills both to mature properly. It wasn't perfect, but it was better than nothing.

He giggled at her expression, accepting the sheet and scurrying out. Katie, her intern, had a kid brother about William's age, and she was wonderful with children. William adored her, and Katie had made it clear to Felicity that she was happy to watch the sweet young boy when he was hanging around the SCT offices.

"Any progress?" Oliver asked, shutting the door behind their son.

Felicity sighed, shaking her head. "No," she murmured. "I just, I wanted to check on you."

He stared at the ground. "I've never seen anyone die before, Lissy," he murmured. Her heart broke at his pain. "And-it was just so cold. He was never gonna let either of them live, no matter what they said."

"He wasn't," she agreed tiredly.

It wasn't as if she didn't understand where Joseph Falk was coming from with his actions. She knew that burning need for revenge a dozen times over. That same desire that driven her to torture Shrieve for releasing the Alpha-Omega Virus and killing sweet Akio before letting Maseo finish the man off. It had been that same instance that taught her the difference between revenge and justice, and also taught her that, although vengeance might give you closure, it didn't relieve the burning grief that gripped you after a loved one was taken from you brutally.

But Falk wasn't going after those involved in his wife's death. Carnahan was the only one linked to the murder of Emma Falk, and that was because he had been unable to bring her killers to trial. Had Falk gone after the gangbangers who killed Emma, it would've been understandable. But Falk was just lashing out and any and everyone he could get his hands on. None of his actions were defensible or justifiable.

"How do you do this, Felicity?" Oliver wondered, looking drained. "Doesn't it just, suck the life out of you?"

Felicity was half-tempted to tell him that there wasn't much life left in her to be stolen, but he was in too much pain already for her to add to it.

"The thing about this, Oliver," she said instead. "Is that we can't save everybody. No matter how much we might wish otherwise. But if I stop, if I give in and hang up my bow? Then next time, nobody gets saved. Saving one is better than saving none."

He stared at her. There'd been a tension between them for the past fortnight, ever since she'd fallen asleep in his bed and, after waking early from the first peaceful sleep she'd had in years, climbed out the window like a teenager. She had dodged his every attempt to talk about it, because she didn't know what to say.

God knew she still loved him, and even learning she was a killer hadn't made him turn away from her, but he didn't understand how broken she was now. He had to know she'd been tortured, even if she hadn't said so aloud, but did he actually realize what they'd done to her?

"Felicity-" Oliver began to say, their gazes locked.

That was when Dig came bursting into the room, full of triumph. "I got it!" he exclaimed. "It's a subway! Falk's on the subway!"

"Starling doesn't have a subway," Oliver argued.

"Not anymore," Diggle admitted. "But they used to. Back when I was a kid, my dad used to take me to the Rockets games, on the subway."

"So that's how he did it," Felicity breathed in realization. "Falk worked for the Department of Transportation, he'd know about the subway! My programmes were right, we had the right locations, but he was underground!"

They all darted for the hidden basement immediately.

* * *

Quentin forced himself to resist the temptation to get a drink. A strong one. What a fucking nightmare of a month it had been. Laurel had officially been put on probation after being receiving, not one or even two, but three DUIs. He'd managed to cover for her the first two times, but the third time he hadn't even tried. Much as he hated it, sometimes you needed to hit rock-bottom to get back on top again, and God knew coddling her wasn't helping. As such, he'd let her spend the weekend in a cell and posted her bail, all the while listening stoically as she spat daggers in the form of words at him.

That had been a fortnight ago, just a few days before SCT's opening.

That itself hurt like hell, because he could still remember how Sara would light up whenever she talked about the company she and her best friend intended to set up. Before that, she'd been like every little girl, wanting to be something else every day, a doctor, a cop like him, an actress, so on. But from age twelve onward, SCT had been her dream. It hurt to know she never got to live it, and he'd had to throw himself into dealing with the Huntress to distract himself from the renewed surge of grief over his baby girl's death.

Dinah's sudden reappearance the next night had shocked him to kingdom come. And then, despite knowing better, he'd given into the hope that she was right, that Sara really had survived the wreck, that God had given him a second miracle. But the Chinese embassy had informed him of the truth. The girl in the photo looked like his lost daughter, yes, but it wasn't her, it was another American the right hair with the right hair colour and cap.

Laurel had disappeared, and Quentin feared that, yet again, he would find her wasted in some bar, trying to drink her sorrows away. Dinah, meanwhile, was clinging to her delusions, but Quentin couldn't indulge it anymore. He was too heartbroken after his hope being crushed to do it again.

"Di, you gotta let it go," he insisted in a low voice, gripping the backrest of a kitchen chair with white-knuckled hands as he watched his ex-wife rip down sheets from the collage spread over the kitchen wall.

"I won't!" she exclaimed, voice shrill. "I _won't_! She is still out there, Quentin! She's still out there, and I _will_ find her!"

"I would cross hell and back to bring her home," he told his ex-wife. "But I _can't_ , 'cause she's _gone_ , Di! She's gone!"

"No!" Dinah sobbed. "No!"

"She is!" Quentin burst out, his pain too overwhelming to suppress. "Sara's gone, but Laurel _isn't_! Laurel's still here, she's hurting! Why the hell can't you let Sara go, be there for Laurel? She's our daughter too, she needs us!"

She'd accused him of burying his pain in his work, and she was right about that. He'd lost two of his girls in one fell swoop, and it had been too much. But he'd _stayed_. Laurel was still there, and he'd stayed for her. He'd been drowning in his grief, but he'd _been there_.

Dinah hadn't.

Dinah shook her head, hands trembling as she gripped the photo of Jen Hunt, tearing it. "It's not fair," she whimpered. "Sara! Sara! _My bbaabbyy_!" She broke down in sobs, and he pulled her into his arms, grieving with her for their bright, bubbly and clever girl, stolen from them years too early.

* * *

Felicity dropped on top of the subway car in a crouch, steadying herself before she began to make her way to the window of the car.

"Joseph Falk!" she cried as she arrived, releasing an arrow. It hit Roy's left bond, setting the boy's arm free and allowing him to work on the other. Falk didn't see it, having spun to look at her, his eyes mad and a gun in his hands.

"Let the kid go," she demanded, keeping a careful eye on Thea's friend. "You kill this kid, he'll never get an opportunity to change! You can give him a second chance."

"We're the only ones who can save this city," Falk replied wildly. "We can't stop now!"

"We're _not_ the same!" Felicity bit out at Faulk.

"You've killed people for this city too!" he cried back. "Emma never got a second chance! You have no idea how lonely it is!"

She felt her heart fall to her stomach at that. "I know _exactly_ how lonely it is," she replied in a quieter voice. "I know what it's like to have your world die be ripped apart while you can't do a single fucking thing but watch.

But that doesn't give you the right to go around killing innocent people! He's just a kid born in shitty circumstances, that's not something he deserves to die for!"

"What's the difference between us?" Faulk demanded. "We've both killed people for the good of this city! What's the difference between you killing Justin Claymore and me killing this waste?"

"Do you see their faces?" Felicity shot back. "When you close your eyes, do you see John Nickels and Gavin Carnahan's expressions as you kill them? Do you hear their voices in your head? 'cause I do. I haven't slept properly in _years_ , not since the first time I killed a man. I remember everyone I've killed, I remember my reasoning for doing it. I kill to protect this city, that's true.

But I don't delude myself into believing I'm a hero, or even a good person. I do it because it's the only way to fix this place, and if someone has to kill people for the greater good of Starling, it might as well be the person with the skills whose already been damned to Hell for half-a-dozen years for her sins.

That's what the difference between us it. Do you seriously think your wife would want this Falk? Do you really believe this'll bring either of you any peace at all?"

Faulk stared at her, and for a moment she thought she might have gotten through to him. But then his expression hardened and he shook his head.

"No, I _have_ to do this!" he declared. "For Emma!" He turned away, raising his gun towards the now free teenager, who blatantly panicked and dived to the floor.

Felicity was faster, whipping out an arrow and shooting it straight through Faulk's chest before he could press the trigger. She stared at his slumped body afterwards, letting out a heavy sigh and shaking her head for a moment before turning to the kid.

"You okay, kid?" she asked gruffly.

"Y, yeah," he stammered. "You saved me."

"That's what I do," she nodded. "No matter what people think, no life is a waste. Being born in the Glades doesn't mean you deserve to die. And I guarantee you, kid, no matter what you think, somebody _would_ miss you if you died. I promise."

Thea's distraught expression was proof of that.

"Thea," Roy mumbled, scrambling to his feet.

She gave him a small smile. "Sounds like you already realized you were wrong," she pointed out mildly. "Better go this Thea of yours. I'm sure she wants to see you and make sure you're okay."

Then she turned and bounded out of the subway car, knowing that the police were probably on their way by now.

* * *

Quentin pursed his lips as he, Hall and Hilton reviewed the footage for the fourth time. The speech given by the Vigilante to Falk showed a key part in where they'd been going wrong with their profile. They had assumed they were dealing with a psychopath, probably from the Glades, with a hero and/or Messiah complex and (from her skills) a Black Ops background.

Now, this undermined nearly that entire theory.

"She could've just been lying," Hall pointed out doubtfully.

"No, she's not bluffing," Hilton disagreed. "I'd say from this that she's _definitely_ ex-military, or maybe CIA. Possibly former POW. Spent some time in isolation maybe. She's not doing this out of revenge, she's doing it because she thinks it's redemption for whatever sins she committed."

"Lost someone important to her as well," Lance added. "Maybe saw them die. Blames herself for it. Might be what she wants redemption for. Maybe a close friend who died for her, either in the Glades, which would explain why she's trying to clean it up, to keep others from that pain. Or else if we're right about the ex-military, maybe when she was overseas a close comrade died and she thinks it was her fault. Survivors' guilt. Either way, she isn't doing this to be a hero or fame, like we thought initially."

"She doesn't see herself as one either," Hilton added. "She's not self-righteous, might not even be positive that she's doing the right thing herself. But she's desperate, can't figure out another way."

Hall chewed her bottom lip, and Lance felt a stab of sympathy for the young girl, who was around Laurel's age. It was easier when the perps were terrible people, when the case was black-and-white. Things changed when the lines blurred and they moved into a grey area, such as a man shooting a mugger dead to protect his wife, or a battered wife hitting her husband with a frying pan to protect her child. It was different if they had a good reason for what they were doing, if they were relatable, and after the speech the Archer had given, Lance was starting to relate to the dark-haired markswoman.

The speech should've cleared things up a bit more for the Taskforce hunting the vigilante, but all it had done was give them more questions than answers.

* * *

"Why so glum, Oliver?" Felicity murmured, studying him from where they leaned beside one another against the railing that overlooked the main level of Verdant, Tommy and Oliver's club. Felicity had rarely visited the place, but somehow they had ended up here for drinks. William was asleep in Oliver's office, having spent the day blissfully oblivious to the stress his parents were going through as they raced to save a life. "This was a good day, we saved the kid and Falk's been put down. I highly doubt you're _that_ upset about Thea having a boyfriend. It's not as if Roy's her first one, after all, and he seems like a good kid."

His frown deepened. "You didn't see his expression when he was telling Falk to kill him," he disagreed. "He thought he should die."

"No," Felicity argued, reaching out to lace their fingers together. "I saw how he looked after I saved him. He was grateful, Oliver. He didn't really want to die. He just didn't want to beg. What would be the point, when Falk's mind was already made up?"

He glanced at her. "Did you ever beg?" he asked quietly. She instinctively knew what he was really asking her. She hated to answer, knowing how much it would hurt him to hear, but she owed him the truth.

Her gaze dropped to her feet and she sighed exhaustedly. "That first month," she revealed softly. "I found an old gun, half-buried in the dirt. As soon as I saw it, I put it against my head and pulled the trigger. Then it turned out not to have any bullets."

She couldn't bring herself to look at him, and her voice trembled as she spoke. "After that," she shrugged, knowing her expression looked dull and tired beyond her years. "Well, there was always a reason to keep going on. Getting home being the most important one. I just-I forgot for a moment."

He reached out and grasped her hand, squeezing it. "The camera was still running when you were talking to Falk," he revealed.

She snapped her eyes shut tightly. "I forgot about it," she sighed. "Oliver-"

"Please, Lissy," he interrupted her, moving to cup her face in his hands and force her to look up into his eyes. "Listen to me."

"Alright," she sighed.

"You _are_ a hero," he insisted fiercely, cutting off her automatic attempt to deny it. "A hero is a person who is admired for their courage, outstanding achievements, or noble qualities," he paused to flash her a cheeky grin. "And I'll have you know that I even looked this up, so you know I'm right." Then he quickly sobered again. "You are the most courageous person I've ever met. You survived Lian Yu and in the space of a few months you've gotten the criminals of Starling checking under their beds in terror of you coming after them. You are selfless, brave, kind, and an outstanding mother and businesswoman to cap it all off. Believe me when I say that I'm not the only one who admires you, and that's _without_ them knowing all that you do every night."

She couldn't breathe, his gaze and tone were both so intense. Abruptly, she found herself leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. "I love you," she breathed against his mouth.

"I love you too." He kissed her back, and for a moment it was as if all her pain and stress had disappeared. But then things got heated and she pulled away, burying her head in his chest to hide her tears. Whatever he thought, he didn't say a word.

Oliver had always been good at knowing when to push her and when to just give her silent comfort, and clearly that hadn't changed over the past half-a-decade.

To think, when their conversation had started, _she_ was the one comforting _him_.

* * *

Moira managed to avoid breaking down until she was once again in her car, away from the monster that Malcolm sent to kill poor Frank. Then she broke down into sobs, scrubbing desperately at the red liquid staining her hands.

She had warned Frank there was nothing she wouldn't do to protect her family, but he hadn't understood her words.

At least Amanda would be spared. The poor girl had suffered more than anyone deserved, now an orphan still traumatized by her rape seven years ago. But she had her life at least, even if her father did not.

Hopefully she never left London to return to Starling. Frank had been sensible, sending his only child to the other side of the world, though whether or not it was far enough to be out of Malcolm's reach, Moira couldn't say.

Frank's blood was on Moira's hands. Despite her attempts to redirect her thoughts, they veered back around in a full circle. Literally and figuratively, she had the blood of her old friend on her hands.

If only the vigilante hadn't saved Malcolm then Frank would still be alive and they'd be free from his psychosis and genocidal plans...Why had the archer, who spent her nights hunting down one percenters, saved him?

But no, she couldn't blame the vigilante, much as Moira feared the woman. It was obvious that she saved anybody, regardless of their socio-economic status. Evidently, though the mysterious archer knew of the List, the Undertaking's existence and that Moira was connected to it, she didn't know anything else. Moira almost hoped she found out, and killed them all.

Killed them like the Dark Archer had killed Frank.

God help her, Frank was dead and it was all her fault.

She sobbed, her body heaving with the force of it. She had only herself and Malcolm to blame. Herself for being foolish enough to believe that she could stop Malcolm and his genocidal plans, and Malcolm for ordering the hit in the first place.

Worst of all, she couldn't fully regret her actions. She loved her family more than anything else in the world. The thought of losing them to Malcolm's madness as she had lost Robert, and for five years, Felicity as well, was unbearable. A world without Oliver's cheeky grin, Thea's sass, William's sweetness and Felicity's compassion was a world that Moira didn't want to live in.

Those five years where Felicity had been presumed dead had been filled with terror, grief and guilt. Every time she had looked at her grief-stricken son, pasting on a fake smile to make people think he wasn't heartbroken by the loss of his wife, or at her sweet little grandson, only knowing his mother through photos and stories, had nearly driven her mad.

Their family had already gone through so much. Felicity was still struggling to adjust to being home again, even if she hid it bravely. The thought of any other member of her family suffering any more than they had already because Moira tried to defy Malcolm again made her shatter.

The worst part of Frank's death was knowing that she didn't truly regret deciding to pin the blame on him. She regretted his death-would bear the guilt and grief for the rest of her life. But there was nothing she wouldn't do to protect her family.

Even if the cost was everybody in the Glades.

She would not-could not, try again to stop Malcolm. She just had to grit her teeth and bear it. Just a little while longer, and it would all be a bad memory.

Just a little while longer.


	16. What Goes Around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity comes to regret a previous act of mercy

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow. As usual, thank you to everyone following and reviewing this story, please keep reading, enjoying and reviewing!**

**Chapter Sixteen**

**What Goes Around...**

"How're we doing?" Oliver asked his friend with a grin. Tommy, who was constantly glowing ever since he and Aly had gotten engaged, beamed back broadly.

"We're in the black, _and_ the green," he replied delightedly.

"I like how we've gone from throwing money at clubs to catching it," Oliver smirked, his best friend matching his smug look.

"Oh, look at these," Tommy laughed, lifting a pair of lingerie out of the lost-and-found box.

"What sort of business has a lost and found that's just filled with women's underwear?" Oliver wondered, chuckling in amusement.

"The best kind of business in history?" Tommy suggested. "Ohh, having this much fun should be against the law."

"Oh, if wishing made it so," Detective Lance drawled as he strode into the bar. "Sorry, am I interrupting anything?"

"Is Felicity ok?" Oliver asked worriedly. Felicity being harmed was the only reason he could think of for Lance to be paying them a visit. Although he doted on Felicity and Will like they were his blood, he'd never liked Oliver and never tried to hide that very hard, though he'd softened towards him over the years.

"Yeah, and Aly?" Tommy added anxiously.

"They're both fine," Lance gentled a fraction. "This visit is about something else. A girl just got mowed down a couple blocks from here. On Starling bridge. Ring any bells with you two?" He held up a photo of the woman.

"No," Oliver shook his head, as did Tommy.

"Should she?" His best friend asked, frowning.

"She was in your club tonight," Lance stated.

"A lot of people were," Tommy pointed out.

"You think someone here killed her?" Oliver asked.

"Not someone," Lance denied. "Some _thing_." He held up a see-through bag full of small green and purple pills.

Oliver stepped back, reaching up to grip his hair. "Vertigo."

"Yeah," Lance confirmed. He gave them a pointed look. "You got a problem with that in this club?"

"Not that I'm aware of," Tommy said defensively.

"We don't allow drugs in here, Detective," Oliver croaked out, full of worry. Thea was doing so well, and Felicity would freak when she found out. He knew what she was like, and she would see this as a failure on her part, given it was her who'd taken down the Count in the first place.

Lance shoved the bag back into his pocket. "Control your clientele," he snapped at them, heading for the door. "Before anyone else wanders into traffic."

"Is there any chance she could have scored the drugs in here?" Oliver whispered to Tommy as soon as the detective was gone.

"I doubt it," Tommy answered tensely. "I try not to hire too many drug dealers."

"Get me a list of employees, anyway," Oliver instructed him, heading for the office to call his wife and ask to meet. This was news he had to break to her in person. "I'll get Felicity to cross reference it for drug arrests."

"That includes the two of us, you know," Tommy pointed out.

"Still, I want that list," Oliver insisted, before entering the office and heading to grab his phone. He really wasn't looking forward to telling Felicity about this.

* * *

_**Lian Yu: 2008** _

_After Ivo's men tied their hands behind their backs, they were forced out of the submarine and into an empty clearing at gunpoint. A cricket was chirruping in the distance, and Felicity felt the dampness of the grass seep into her jeans when she was shoved to the ground, forced onto her knees with a gun held to her head._

_In later years, Felicity would always think it was strange how the most mundane things stuck out in a person's memory of trauma._

_"Anthony, please," Sara begged tearfully. "You have the Mirakuru, you have what you want! Just let us go, please. If you ever cared for me-"_

_"Oh, but I do care for you, Sara," the so-called 'scientist' answered. The coldness of his voice sent chills down Felicity's spine. "That's why I'm not going to kill you. But she might." He nodded towards Felicity, who shook her head in confusion._

_"You, Mrs. Queen, have one minute to decide which of your friends' lives, and which of them dies," Ivo announced as Shado and Sara were shoved down to their knees, side-by-side with Felicity facing them._

_She went white, shaking her head furiously. "No, please don't!" she begged, throwing her pride to the wind to plead for the others' lives. Sara's face was soaked in tears while Shado wore a look of resignation, shoulders slumped defeatedly in a way Felicity had never seen her. There was no way out of this. Slade was dead, they were disarmed, outnumbered and bound too tightly to escape. Only if Ivo took mercy on them would all three of them survive, and the man would clearly never do that. There was no care in his eyes, not even for Sara. Only a coldly calm anger that made his eyes blaze._

_"You got what you came for!" Felicity went on desperately, willing to plead if there was any chance of it succeeding. "Just take it and go!"_

_"30 seconds," Ivo drawled, indifferent to her pleas._

_"Me, I choose me!" Felicity begged. She couldn't think of her son and husband, or getting back to them right then. Only of the two women she considered sisters, and her desperation to save their lives._

_"You're not an option," he shrugged indifferently. "Choose. Ten seconds left."_

_"You fucking psychopath!" She sobbed._

_"History will make that judgment," he stated. "Five seconds."_

_"Please, kill_ _**me** _ _," she repeated desperately. "Not them! Please!"_

_"Time's up," he answered._

_He aimed his gun at Sara's head, and Felicity flung herself between her oldest friend and the barrel. "No, no!" She shrieked._

_"I guess you made your choice," Ivo stated, cocking the gun at Shado, who wore an expression of grim acceptance._

_"No!" Felicity screamed, helpless to do anything but watch as one of her dearest friends was shot dead before her eyes. Warm blood splattered across her face, staining her hair and cheeks. "Shado!"_

* * *

Already off-balance from her nightmare of Shado's death, Felicity was burning with rage by the time she broke into the mental hospital.

The part of her that wasn't occupied with finding the Count scoffed at how abysmal the so-called security of the place was. She wanted to hurt somebody, to deal with the helpless grief and anger invoked by the memory of Shado's death and all it had triggered, and the Count, who had invented the damn _shit_ that had nearly killed Thea, would do just fine.

"Here I was born, and there I died," Cecil Adams, a.k.a the Count, was mumbling incoherently to himself when she broke into his room. "It was only a moment for you. You took no notice." He groaned when she grabbed him by the throat and pinned him against the wall.

"A woman died tonight from your poison," she hissed at him.

"Lots of women die," he replied in a high voice. "Lots of nights, for lots of reasons."

"Someone is selling Vertigo again!" She snapped. "Where's it coming from?"

Suddenly, Adams gained an intent expression, peering at her. "I remember you," he murmured. She leaned back, disturbed by the look in his eyes. "The woman in the mask. You are never far from my thoughts, Mask Woman."

She heard people approaching and quickly released him, hurrying to escape through the window.

"You have failed this city!" The Count screamed after her. "You have failed this city! You have failed this city!"

_You have failed this city,_ her mind repeated. The thought replayed itself over and over as she returned to her base, making her stomach twist into tight knots.

* * *

"This new version of Vertigo, it's more addictive, more unstable," Oliver briefed Dig as Felicity perched on her computer chair, one leg lifted to her knee as the other rested lightly on the floor, brooding on her stupidity. Slade had always warned her that her heart, her hesitance to kill that nothing, whether it was the island or ARGUS or the Bratva had fully destroyed, would come back to haunt her. If she'd killed the Count when she'd had the chance, this wouldn't have happened.

_'You have failed this city'_ the Count's voice kept whispering in the back of her mind, even as she tried to figure out a way to locate the source of the Vertigo.

"It killed a girl who was at Verdant, same as it nearly killed Thea," her husband went on, expression grim.

"Right, so what's the plan then?" Diggle asked, both men turning to Felicity, who was staring sightlessly at the opposite wall. His voice being aimed at her pierced her thoughts and she turned to them, expression stoic. "I'd suggest paying the Count a visit-"

"I did already, straight away after Oliver called," Felicity sighed, frowning. "But no joy. He's sumasshedshiy, insane." She made the universal hand sign for crazy as she spoke. "My best guess is that one of his producers figured out most of the recipe and decided to produce it themselves. That'd explain the discrepancy between the two versions as well. But almost none of them were caught, and the ones that were are in prison, so I don't know where to begin."

"Guys, look!" Oliver exclaimed before Diggle could respond. Oliver grabbed the remote for the TV (always set to the news channel) and quickly turned up the volume. The reporter stood outside the Starling City mental institution, but it was the headline that made Felicity's heart fall.

_**'Count Escapes Mental Institution!'** _

"I'm here at the scene where police say a disturbed patient escaped only hours ago," the reporter announced. "Authorities issued an immediate lockdown at the Starling County Institute for Mental Health following the breakout. Police are warning people to avoid contact with the drug dealer known as the Count."

"Not so crazy after all, huh?" Dig remarked, glancing her way.

Felicity stood calmly, going over to the currently empty table where she made her arrows and cared for her weapons, turning it over and letting out an angry yell before storming out of the room, burning with rage.

* * *

Once she had regained her composure (via beating up a couple of muggers and two rapists), she returned to the base where the guys were waiting for her.

Neither of them mentioned what she could only call her temper tantrum, and she was thankful for it.

"So, we have an idea to track down where the drugs are," Oliver told her instead.

"I'm all ears," she urged him.

"We attach some trackers to some money," he began. "And then one of us goes out and buys some vertigo. We can follow the dealer, find out where he goes. Could lead us to the Count."

"Good idea," Felicity agreed. "I can disgui-"

"No, you scream narc," Oliver protested. "Even in a wig and contacts, you don't look like a druggie of any type. And I can't go either, I'd be recognized right off the bat and everyone knows I haven't touched drugs in years."

"Clearly, the only solution is to send in the black guy," Dig huffed, blatantly annoyed by what he no doubt considered racism and stereotyping. Felicity, who was in a constant battle against sexism as a pretty blonde woman in STEM, understood his frustration entirely.

Oliver raised his hands in a surrender motion. "We could hire somebody to do it for us," he suggested warily. "But-"

"No," Felicity said firmly. "We're not risking some innocent getting caught and arrested. It'll have to be one of us, and Dig's the best option. Sorry, Dig."

He sighed resignedly and went to change into some rapper-style clothes kept in their closet of undercover outfits.

He returned two hours later and threw a bag of vertigo pills on the desk. "The person of colour has successfully purchased the drugs," he announced. "You're welcome."

"I don't deserve you," Felicity replied earnestly, kissing his cheek briefly before grabbing the bag and taking it over to her spectrometer to start a spectro analysis. There was a clear difference between the two versions of the drug, and there was always the chance that something in the new recipe that might help them find the Count.

"Tracker's already active," Oliver noted, peering at the computer screen. "Looks like a strong signal."

"Drug money is like a pigeon, it always finds its way home," Diggle said sagely as he removed his disguise, returning the clothes to the cupboard.

"And we'll trace it all the way back to the Count," Felicity nodded, pulling on her jacket and wig. "Keep an eye on the signal."

He nodded curtly, but she noticed his glance toward the far computer, the one that was constantly running facial recognition software for Floyd Lawton. It worried her a bit, how obsessed he was with finding Lawton, but she understood too. Until Lawton was dead, Dig would have no sense of closure for his brother. She had no leg to stand on in regards to protesting an obsession with revenge, and frankly she supported his desperate need to make Deadshot pay. She'd been in that situation more than a few times herself, after all. And it had been she herself who had organized a file on everything she could find on Lawton, including the name of his broker and given it to him the day before, so she had even less room to protest when she was facilitating his actions.

Putting aside her concerns to focus on the situation at hand, Felicity left, bow and katana forming an x against her back as she rode around the Glades for the best part of an hour until Oliver sent her the coordinates for where the money ended up.

She pulled up to a construction yard where a bunch of homeless men were gathered around a barrel fire. Felicity observed from where she had perched on a rooftop just above the group as three fancy-looking (she had no interest in vehicles, except for maybe their engines) cars pulled up, and the men start scrambling to hand over their money and receive the drugs. Without hesitation, aggravated by the memories of Reiter and Conklin that drugs always brought to mind, she aimed at a brick of drugs, and vertigo capsules burst all over the place.

She slid down a chute, still firing into the crowd, but the person (or people) in the car managed to escape when she was forced to take cover under one of the trucks to avoid being hit by flying bullets.

* * *

When she returned to the basement, Oliver was the only one there, still watching the now-useless signal as the police scanner on her right-hand computer issued a call for a hostage situation in progress at the aquarium. For a moment she wondered where Dig was, then recalled him mentioning to her earlier that he had set up a meeting with one of his contacts to hand over a copy of the information on Lawton. She cursed the timing, but there was nothing to be done about it. They couldn't have expected this, after all.

Pushing away thoughts of Dig, she leaned past her husband and hacked into the aquarium's security to get a better look, swearing in Cantonese when she recognized one of the homeless guys from earlier standing beside the tank, waving a gun over a dead security guard.

"Scanner said witnesses saw him pop some green and purple pills," Oliver informed her gravely.

She didn't respond, hurrying over to the 'science table', as Dig and Oliver had dubbed it. She pulled out a pouch of her island herbs and began stewing them into a tea to give the homeless guy to purify his system. She made a mental note that she was running low. Thankfully, one of her first actions after buying her apartment was to set up a small pot on the balcony of her lift to grow more in, and some should be ready for harvesting soon enough. The herb was invaluable, and she wasn't about to let herself run out of it.

"There's a guy waving a gun at hostages in the aquarium we took our son to last Saturday and you're making _tea_?" Oliver said disbelievingly. " You don't even like tea. What am I missing here?"

"The fact that they're herbs from the island and counter the effects of most poisons and toxins," Felicity explained curtly. "They countered the effects of vertigo when the Count dosed me back in February, so I expect they'll do it again this time."

"Ah," he muttered. "So you're not gonna," he faltered, rubbing a hand over his scruffy jaw.

She stiffened. "Not gonna what?" She asked him coolly. Things had been tensed since their kiss nine days ago. They were stuck in a limbo, constantly taking one step forward and two steps back, and they'd been like this since her return from Lian Yu. Felicity wanted to move forward, but so much held her back, ranging from her shame over everything that had happened, to her lingering sense of (and she knew it was irrational, but it existed all the same) resentment over him hooking up with Laurel when she was gone, plus his frustration with her refusal to talk about what had happened to her when she was gone, why she had changed so drastically.

They needed to talk, but there was never any time, between their day jobs, their night job, and raising their son.

"Knock 'im off," he said hesitantly.

She stamped down on the hurt she felt at the way he doubted her. It wasn't as though she didn't understand why he did, but it still stung. His lack of faith in her new character was another topic they needed to discuss. Felicity thought they were going to have to make time to talk, soon, otherwise everything they were keeping pent up was going to boil over and they'd both have meltdowns.

"Firstly, I'm not a fucking mob boss, Oliver. I don't 'knock people off," she reminded him sharply. Granted, she was technically the Bratva captain of Starling, but she mostly left all of that to Alexei, and she hadn't told her husband about that yet. "Secondly, did I knock Thea off for getting high on this crap?" making him wince guiltily. "She didn't deserve to be shot for being stupid and reckless, and neither does this guy. It wasn't him who failed the city, Oliver, the city failed him. And so did I."

"What?" He blinked. "That's ridiculous, Lis. It's not as if you forced him to take drugs or anything. He made his own decision."

"I had the opportunity to kill the Count, and I let my respect for my father stop me," Felicity replied stonily. It was the truth. Overdosing him would have been wrong, but letting him live had clearly been the wrong decision too. But she wanted desperately to persuade the only father she'd ever known that she was working for the good of the city, and so she'd let him live instead of following her instincts. Somewhere in the afterlife, Slade was loudly declaring that he'd told her so.

"You caught him, he was locked up," Oliver argued. "Nobody could have predicted this would happen."

"And because of that, the city's burning!" Felicity snapped. "That girl is dead, her parents are never gonna hold their daughter again, because I was a weak fool and showed mercy to the wrong man! Clearly, it was a mistake!"

He recoiled, but she simply set her jaw and shoved the arrow she had filled with the tea into her quiver before running for the door.

"Send a text to Dig," she ordered as she rushed away. "Tell him to get to the aquarium if he can. I could do with the extra eyes."

* * *

She was too late to save the man at the aquarium. She managed to locate him and herd him away from the hostages and into an empty room, but he gasped out a final breath even as she raised the arrow to plunge the antidote into his heart. The sound of sirens kept her from reacting, though, as she had to flee before the cops arrived.

She stormed back to the base, seething with anger and helplessness. For all she'd told Oliver that you couldn't save everyone, she would never _not_ be able to care when she failed to protect somebody. She hoped she didn't, at least. In her opinion, it was a sign that she hadn't lost her humanity, despite how she sometimes felt.

When she returned, Dig was there but Oliver had gone to collect Will from school. Her hands were balled into fists so tight she could feel the short nails digging into her palms. She wanted to yell at Dig for not being there when the guy died, but she didn't. It wasn't Diggle who had fucked up, it was her, and her loyal partner deserved better from her than to be used as an outlet for her self-directed rage.

She headed straight for the punching bag instead, not bothering to remove her brass knuckles or gloves, or even set down her weapons, before attacking it fiercely, picturing the Count's face as she hit.

"I want his head on a platter," she hissed. "I'm gonna kill him!"

"You will," Diggle agreed calmly. Softly, he added, "I'm sorry, I got the message too late."

"I'd be pissed, but you're not responsible for this," she replied, not turning her face from the bag. "And catching Lawton's important."

Andrew Diggle wasn't even close to being the only person deserving justice for a premature death, after all, and every minute Lawton was loose was another minute that he was able to increase his lofty body count.

Dig reached out and rested a hand on her shoulder. "We're gonna get him, Felicity," he insisted.

"But how many more'll die before that?" She wondered darkly. She sighed, dropping her fists and turning to him. "How'd your meeting go?" She asked, wanting to think about something else for a moment, even if it was the hunt for Lawton.

"Well," Dig nodded. "I gave a copy of the information you dug up to Lyla. Deadshot's on ARGUS' wanted list, so this'll be priority for them. They didn't even have his real name before tonight."

"ARGUS?" She repeated sharply. "As in the Advanced Research Group United Support? I didn't realize you were giving the info to one of _them_." She didn't bother hiding her dislike (to give a severe understatement) of the agency.

Dig nodded calmly. "Yeah, Lyla and I have a lot of history," he said simply. "I figure they have the best resources to track Lawton down."

Felicity chewed the inside of her cheek before deciding she had an obligation as Dig's friend to bring it up. "Are you sure you can trust her?" She questioned him carefully.

She knew that Lyla was Dig's ex-wife, but she was also a high-ranking _ARGUS_ agent. And not one who was coerced into joining the black ops unit, the way Felicity and Maseo had both been. No, Lyla Michaels had joined them willingly. Maybe she hadn't known what sort of acts Waller considered justified when she joined, but she had to know by now, and what type of person considered torture and threatening the lives of kids to force their parents into becoming government assassins acceptable? A sociopath, at best.

Dig stiffened, narrowing his eyes at her. "What's that supposed to mean?" He demanded sharply.

"It means that ARGUS isn't trustworthy, Dig," Felicity replied lowly. "I've dealt with Waller before, _far_ too many times."

Once was too many. God, she hated that woman, even if she grudgingly respected her too. Her hatred outweighed that respect by far. The woman was a ruthless psychopath. She had tortured Felicity and threatened her family to turn her into her personal assassin and torturer, her arrogance had gotten sweet little Akio murdered, she had hired mercenaries and ordered them to shoot down a civilian aircraft to kill one woman, and dropped Felicity back on that godforsaken hellhole. Felicity was more than familiar with the feeling of despair, but the time that she opened her eyes on that damn helicopter to spy Lian Yu, and learned that, after months of running through Europe, trying to avoid ARGUS and too ashamed of her actions in Hong Kong to go home, she was being sent back to hell, had definitely been the worst. She had actually tried to throw herself out of the aircraft to avoid it, preferring death, but the agents aboard had stopped her.

Felicity couldn't trust anybody who willingly worked for Amanda Waller, even with the blackmail material she had put together to ensure the woman stayed away from Felicity's family.

"Waller's a ruthless psycho," Felicity insisted as she went on. "And I don't think anyone who trusts her, who thinks her methods are justifiable, is trustworthy either."

Dig glared at her. Felicity wasn't surprised. She'd be just as defensive of Oliver, possibly more, if someone said something like this about him to her. But she still had to try.

"You don't know Lyla!" Dig snapped. " _I_ do! She's a good person, she's dedicated her life to protecting this country! I'm not gonna stand here and listen to you talk shit about her, without knowing the first thing about her!"

"I recall you saying something similar about Gaynor," Felicity said lowly. Dig's expression darkened in rage at the reminder of his treacherous ex-CO. Instead he just snarled at her, turning on his heel and storming out. Felicity was kinda surprised he hadn't punched her. She wouldn't have blamed him if he had. Even Felicity knew she'd gone way too far, and her only excuse was that she had been trained to go for the jugular when threatened.

She watched stonily as he stalked out, slamming the heavy alley entrance shut behind with a loud bang. Then she turned and walked over to her computer, setting up a programme to work on carefully infiltrating ARGUS' systems to see what they would do with the info on Lawton. Maybe Lyla Michaels was trustworthy, maybe not. But either way, Dig was right that ARGUS was definitely the ones with the best chance of tracking down Deadshot, and Felicity would happily use them (as they'd used her) to ensure he got the closure he deserved.

Later, once he'd calmed down and the Count was dealt with, she would go and talk to Diggle, explain her point of view to him. She hadn't expressed herself properly this time, had gone about discussing her concerns in the wrong way, and bringing up Gaynor had been a low blow. She would apologize to him for that, too.

Oliver came trotting down the steps from the office entrance as she was finishing up with hacking ARGUS and turning her attention to brainstorming a new way to get the Count.

"Will's working on his homework in your office," he reported. "Where's Dig? I thought he was back."

"He's taking the rest of the night off," she muttered, not looking at him.

"Are Carly and AJ okay?"

"They're fine," she said briskly. "We just had a, disagreement, that's all. I'll talk to him once this is all sorted out. Speaking of which, the autopsy report on the druggie from the aquarium is back. I'm about to look it over." As she spoke, she pulled it up to begin studying it.

"Well?" Oliver asked, spying the frown she gained. "What is it?"

"He didn't die of an overdose after all," she replied slowly.

"Then what happened?" Oliver wondered, looking confused as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"He had an allergic reaction, to chlorpromazine," she stated, tapping urgently at her keyboard to bring up the spectro analysis she'd done. She hadn't had a chance to look it over yet. "It's an anti-psychotic, and it's in the rest of the vertigo samples too. Veronica Sparks had some in her system as well. The Count must have added it to his recipe. That must be why it's so much more unstable now."

"Why would he add something like that?" Oliver questioned her in bewilderment. "Anti-psychotics are controlled substances, and I'm willing to bet they cost a fortune on the black market. It wouldn't be worth it to add it to the recipe, especially not in the amounts that he would need."

"Unless he has access to it now," Felicity breathed as realization dawned on her. Her head snapped over to look at her husband with wide eyes. "Oliver, we've been looking at this all wrong!" She exclaimed. "He faked his escape from the hospital, same as he faked being insane!"

He stared back at her, aghast at the realization. "I guess you're breaking back into the mental institution, then."

* * *

Assuming that the Count would've had the smarts to realize that he needed to hide out in an unused part of the institute, Felicity made her way to the basement, bow raised and arrow knocked. It didn't take her too long to find the Count. He was sitting with his back to her at a desk, his silence a stark contrast to the last time she had come for him.

She strode up behind him, pressing her arrow into his neck. "I should have killed you when I had the chance," she hissed. "Turn around!"

He did nothing, not even twitching, and Felicity's eyes narrowed in suspicion, her instincts warning that something was wrong here. She edged around to see his front, startled to see him staring vacantly, a dribble of drool escaping the corner of his mouth. There were probes attached to his forehead, with leads going to some sort of machine beneath the table.

She realized the truth at the same time as a quiet footstep caught her attention. She spun, raising her bow like a staff, but she had been foolish, too distracted by the Count to notice the orderly sneaking up on her, and the man managed to knock her out before she could defend herself.

/

She woke up strapped to a table. The restraints were good, too firm for her to break out of them, too tight for her to wriggle out, and positioned in a way that stopped her from getting to any of her wrist arrows or switchblades. Credit where credit was due, they'd done well in securing her.

"Felicity Queen," a man's voice said, the soft tapping of dress shoes alerting her to his approach. "I guess all those years on that island really did drive you crazy after all."

Felicity rolled her eyes. "Isn't it against the rules of being a psychologist to label somebody with PTSD as crazy?" She shot back, taking an educated guess as to the identity of her current captor. "Not very politically correct, is it?"

"How'd you figure it out?" The doctor asked curiously, coming into view at last.

She shrugged as best she could with her wrists tied so tightly. "I have an IQ of 170," she explained casually. "Once I realized what shape the Count was in, it was obvious. You'd be the only one with enough access to him to do this. Speaking of, how'd you get the vertigo recipe? Guy doesn't exactly seem in the shape for teaching a chemistry class."

"Oh, he couldn't tell me if he wanted to," the man shrugged. "I ordered a biopsy on his kidneys. The tissue was suffused with the narcotic after his O.D. When I got the results, I realized I could reverse engineer the chemical compound of the drug, produce a synthesized version myself using the facilities here."

"And made a few improvements, like adding chlorpromazine," Felicity added distastefully. Oh, she was going to kill this guy, and she wouldn't regret it. He was a psychopath. He reminded her of Ivo, and she hated that. She worked on getting the remote for her explosive arrows into her hand as she spoke, using the conversation to prevent the doctor from noticing her actions.

"So that's how you found us," the doctor murmured in comprehension.

"Cops came around, started asking questions, you faked the Count's disappearance to draw attention away from yourself," Felicity stated. She inclined her head. "I'll give you this much, it was a clever plan."

"I wasn't trying to be a criminal mastermind," he answered. "I just needed the money. Something I'm sure that a billionaire's wife wouldn't understand."

Felicity sneered at him in disgust. "Believe me, I understand you _perfectly_ ," she spat.

"Open her mouth," the doctor ordered his minion.

Felicity fought, but bound as she was there was nothing she could do to stop them wrenching her jaw open and pouring the concentrated vertigo into her mouth.

The effect was instant, even with her managing to refrain from swallowing most of it. Her sense blurred, sight and sound and touch all mixed together, giving her a sick feeling. But she pressed down on the button in her hand, and the arrow let out a rhythmic beeping sound before exploding, the explosion causing in the table she was strapped to topple to the floor and letting her escape her bonds. She struggled towards her quiver, recalling in her messed-up mind that she still had the antidote intended for the junkie at the aquarium in it. A moment later, she heard the sounds of scuffling as she grabbed the arrow.

"Dig!" She called, recognizing the sound of the grunts. He didn't answer, occupied with the orderly, and she shoved the arrow directly into her chest, groaning in pain and subsequently throwing up the liquid drug.

Her senses began stabilizing immediately, and when she weakly lifted her head she saw that the doctor was making a run for it while Dig continued to fight the orderly. She staggered up, grabbing her quiver and bow, and rushed after the man as fast as her unsteady legs would take her. Unfortunately for the doctor, Felicity was well-used to having to race against time while sick or injured, and she soon cornered him in the hallway.

"Freeze!" She demanded, raising her bow.

He paused and turned, smirking at her. "You don't look too good," he noted. "I bet you couldn't aim a single arrow."

He was right about that, so Felicity knocked three instead. One hit the mark, and she watched his grin disappear into horror as it hit its mark, sinking into his chest.

She turned and returned to the room, where Dig had just finished off the orderly. The Count was still in his chair, mumbling nonsense. Felicity stared at him for a long moment. She had promised herself she would kill him when she found him, but this hadn't been the Count's fault. Not this time, at least.

She turned away, towards Diggle. "Let's go," she croaked, voice still hoarse from the godawful drug they'd tried to overdose her with. "We're done here."

* * *

She launched right into it on their return to the base. "I'm sorry, Dig. I should never have said that. Thank you for coming for me."

He sighed at her, arms crossed over his chest. "You needed me," he reminded her. "One argument isn't gonna make me walk away, Felicity. Friends argue sometimes, only way to avoid it is to never talk with each other."

"I really am sorry," she insisted. "I just-I've had a lot of bad experiences with ARGUS. I panicked." She paused, then went on reluctantly. "The tail end of my second year away, ARGUS picked me up off the island. Made me work for them by threatening Will and the rest of the family. Then they dropped me back on Lian Yu." It missed a lot of points, including that she'd been returned to the island to take out a psychotic drug lord and that Amanda had let her back off again afterwards, but just touching that little bit on it had her struggling to fend off a panic attack. She physically couldn't go on.

Dig's expression softened in sympathy. "I thought you might've been lying about being there all those years," was all he said, not pressing for more. "I won't tell Oliver about it," he added, practially reading her mind.

"I don't deserve you," she said for the second time in as many days.

He grinned and raised a shoulder in a half-shrug. "Maybe you don't, but you have me anyway."

She gave a weak smile and ran a hand through her hair. "Shall we see what your ARGUS friend's done with the info you gave her?" She suggested. "They'll probably set up a sting to catch Deadshot using Garcia, and I think the two of us ought to crash the party, don't you?"

He cracked a grin, joining her at the computers. "Sounds good to me."


	17. To Exact Revenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team Artemis goes up against Deadshot

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow. BTW, post season 2 I cherry-pick what pieces of canon I like and dislike, so in this verse Andy wasn't a drug dealer, and I had always assumed he was Dig's elder brother, so in this he was.**

**Secondly, about Felicity and Oliver's talk. It will come. In the interlude between Season 1 and Season 2 (Felicity won't be running off to Lian Yu, given she's got a kid who needs his mother). So, hang in there and bear with me.**

**Read, enjoy and review!**

_"To exact revenge for yourself or your friends is not only a right, it's an absolute duty."_  
― **Stieg Larsson**

**Chapter Seventeen**

**To Exact Revenge**

A fortnight after the second Vertigo crisis, Floyd Lawton once again returned to Starling. Felicity knew about his return because she had been shamelessly (and gleefully, because outsmarting or irritating Amanda Waller in any way caused her a deep sense of satisfaction and a vindictive happiness) hacking ARGUS since putting down the psychotic asshole claiming to be a physician, mental or not.

"Hey, boys," she called over her shoulder to where Dig and Oliver were sparring (Oliver had improved a lot over the past few months. Dig and she still far outclassed him, but he was managing to hold his own reasonably well now.). "I got something."

"I'm pretty sure this makes me a cyberterrorist now," she commented to them as her fingers continued to fly over the keyboards at light speed. "Escaping from Gitmo's gonna be a fucking nightmare." On the bright side, she had about five different off-shore accounts set up for herself under various aliases, and a few for Dig and Oliver, too.

"I don't think they send blondes there," Oliver joked, as the two men abandoned their stick fighting practice and joined her. "Oh, wait, I forgot that it's a dye job."

She shot him a mocking glare. "That claim stays in this base," she declared with a smirk. "Or I'll have no choice but to shoot you both to keep it quiet."

"Hey, so what'd you find out?" Dig interrupted, eager tension radiating from him.

Felicity turned serious. "So, it seems that Dig's friend Agent Michaels has laid a trap for Lawton," she announced, gesturing at the screen showing the basic details of the op. It was only an outline, however. She'd have to dig deeper to find out the when and where, etc.

"It seems that our old friend Deadshot is scheduled to meet with a potential new client here in Starling City this week. Except the potential contract is a sham. Agent Michaels is setting a trap for him, and Lawton took the bait."

"You got any more details?" Dig asked. "Where's it going down, and when?"

Felicity shrugged. "Haven't gotten that yet," she admitted apologetically. "Maybe you could talk to her, see if you can suss out any details?"

He frowned. "I'll try," he agreed. "But Lyla's good at her job, and loyal to her superiors. She might not tell me anything."

"I'll keep working on it," Felicity promised. He nodded, grabbing his jacket and rushing away with barely a goodbye.

"Should we be worried about him?" Oliver asked her lowly. She frowned at him, genuinely confused.

"Why would we be?" She blinked.

"It's like he's about to jump out of his skin," Oliver pointed out. "And he hardly seems to look away from the facial recognition programme. This can't be healthy for him."

"Neither is jaywalking or eating Coco Puffs, but we all still do it," Felicity said reasonably. She hesitated and sighed, reaching up to tug a hand through her blonde locks. "Look, I get where you're coming from, alright, Oliver? But Dig-he's not going to be able to get past his brother's death until he has closure from it, and he's not gonna have closure until Lawton's dead. Once Lawton's been dealt with, Diggle'll be back to normal."

"And what happens if Lawton gets away again?" Oliver wondered. "What then?"

Felicity raised her chin and met his eyes. "Then we go back to the start, and keep hunting him until either he's dead or we are," she stated firmly.

* * *

John hurried his pace to catch up with his ex-wife. "Lyla!" He called after her, but she didn't slow her step. He had a sinking feeling at the sight of her tense body language and the curt tone she used to greet him, but forged forward anyway.

"What's going on, Johnny?" She asked curtly, not even glancing at him.

"Just stopped by to see how things were going on your Deadshot investigation," he answered casually, heart in his throat. "Anything new come up?"

"Funnily enough, it did," she answered coldly, finally looking at him, though she didn't stop walking. "I was curious why you, a bodyguard, were so keen on taking down such a high-profile assassin, so I did some reading up on Lawton."

Dig sighed. So she had found out. He'd figured she probably would. "Lyla, listen," he began.

She stopped walking at last and turned to glare furiously at him, blue eyes dark with anger and betrayal. "Did you really think I wouldn't find out that he killed your brother?" She spat. "That you were using me- _me_!" Her hurt would've been hidden from anybody else, but he knew her too well. It made guilt twist his stomach. "To do what?" She went on angrily. "Draw him into the open so you could take him down yourself? I will not let you use my agency to settle your blood feud."

"Lyla," he growled back, grabbing her arm to keep her from stalking away. "I need to see this guy in a bag. You of all people should get that."

She knew how much he loved his brother. How devastated he, Carly and AJ had all been by his sudden death. They'd already been divorced by then, but they still cared for each other, and Lyla had come to the funeral, and stayed with him until he was recovered from the devastating blow. They'd always been prepared for the likelihood of one of them dying overseas, but home was supposed to be _safe_. Neither of them had considered that their bodyguard jobs would cost them their lives, not really.

"Get this," she bit back, blue-grey eyes flashing with warning. "Stay away from Lawton, Johnny, or so help me, I will have you arrested. You doubt me?" she added at the expression he wore.

He shook his head, face stony. "Never have."

* * *

Once she had gained all she could from the ARGUS files, Felicity pulled on a disguise that consisted of a red wig, brown contacts, a scattering of fake freckles, and a cheery yellow sundress with matching high heels. Then she headed off to the SNB, waited for ten minutes to speak to a teller, and asked to access her (or rather, Erin Matthews') security deposit box.

The box didn't have much in it, and a lot of what was there was purely for show, to disguise the thing of real importance. Felicity lifted out the USB, something that most would probably dismiss as holding old photos or whatever, and tucked it into her bag along with a few other things that she removed to hide her true objective.

"Ta!" She called to the helpful teller, in a fake British accent. "'ave a nice ev'nin'!"

"You too," the woman agreed warmly.

Felicity left the bank, her insurance policy against any ARGUS retaliation or arrest securely in her bag with nobody the wiser that she had just removed a USB containing classified government secrets from the premises.

/

The next morning, Oliver joined them in the base again. Felicity wondered briefly how he managed to get away from work so often. For herself, she was her own boss and set her own hours (plus she deliberately worked almost 24/7 to avoid sleep and the problems it brought with it), and Dig was still officially her bodyguard and thus just had to follow her around, but Oliver had to answer to his mother. Then again, Moira tended to let her children do what they liked, and nobody else would dare to question Oliver Queen (at least, nobody else at QC).

"What's that?" Oliver asked when he arrived, seeing the two vigilantes studying three screens full of information. "By the way, Will has a sleepover tonight, so he's going home with his friend's mother."

Felicity nodded, "Yeah, I remember," she replied. "And this is Agent Michaels' mission profile on the trap they've set for Deadshot."

"Lawton is set to meet his new employer and get his assignment tomorrow at 8 pm," Dig explained, studying the info Felicity had sent to his laptop as he paced the room. "Only, his new employer... Will be an ARGUS agent. Lyla will then swoop in with her team and arrest him."

Felicity and Dig locked eyes with one another. "Do you want Lawton arrested?" She asked him simply, voice low and serious.

"No," he admitted, expression dark.

She nodded simply. "Then tomorrow night, we cross Floyd Lawton's name off your list," she stated.

"Lyla says she'll have me arrested if I don't stay away from Deadshot," Dig admitted.

Felicity gave a tight smile that failed to reach her eyes. "That's not a concern," she promised, taking out the USB she'd collected the night before and showing it to the team. "This is our insurance against ARGUS. It's proof of various acts against foreign powers and other shit they're responsible for, including a, fortunately unsuccessful, attempt to shoot down a civilian aircraft headed from Berlin to China, to try and damage China's economy and kill a single woman. This will destroy the reputation of the US if this gets out, so Waller won't dare let it. This is a hard copy, but I have all the info online, hooked up to a programme. If certain criteria is fulfilled, or if it's activated outright, it will all be sent to every major news outlet in the world. And don't worry, Dig. Nothing on this will compromise anybody's identity or any current missions."

"That sounds dangerous," Oliver pointed out warily. "Actually, that sounds more than dangerous, that sounds like treason."

Felicity waved him off, eyes glinting darkly. "Waller and I have an understanding," she assured him. "She knows I have this, and she knows that I don't bluff. She won't risk it."

"Okay," Diggle nodded, content.

"Now," Felicity clapped her hands together. "Dig, you and I are gonna pull up the blueprints for this place and start planning how to put a bullet in Lawton's chest."

"A bullet?" Oliver asked in surprise. "Not an arrow?"

She flipped her ponytail over her shoulder. "What goes around, comes around," she smirked. "I figure it's only right, seeing as Lawton shoots people with poisoned bullets, that he die via a poisoned bullet."

"Sounds good to me," Dig declared venomously. Oliver still looked wary, but nodded and made his excuses, as he had a meeting for QC that he needed to attend. Meanwhile the other two members of the team started planning out their operation.

* * *

_**Starling City: February 19th** _ _,_ _**2006** _

_All in all, Felicity's labour lasted eighteen hours. It hadn't come as a surprise, given she'd been having Braxton Hicks contractions for over a fortnight, but they had still freaked out when her water broke. Even with the epidural, Felicity was obviously in agony, and Oliver wished more than anything that he could help her._

_He did what he could, despite how feeble his attempts felt. He bathed her sweaty forehead with a damp cloth, fed her ice chips, agreed with her angry accusations that he was at fault for all her suffering and that of course, he would never dare touch her again. When the time came for her to push, her grip was so strong that she managed to crack the bones in two of his fingers._

_Then, with one final scream, Felicity's moans of pain and exertion were replaced by the upset cries of a newborn, forced out of the warmth and protection of his mother's and into the cold, sterile hospital room._

_"Is that, is that him?" Felicity rasped, wide eyed as she tried to crane her head to see their baby. "Is that our son?"_

_"Yeah," Oliver whispered. "That's him."_

_"Does Dad want to cut the umbilical cord?" Their OBGYN, a friendly woman who was one of the country's top gynaecologists, named Doctor Louisa Jordan, asked warmly._

_Pale-faced, Oliver stumbled over. He could barely manage to drag his eyes away from the small, blood-covered form squirming in the nurse's arms, and his hands shook slightly as he carefully cut the cord._

_"Oh, where're you taking him?" Felicity called anxiously as the nurse then turned to carry the baby over to the other side of the room._

_"Don't worry, Felicity," Dr Jordan assured her, still between Felicity's legs as they dealt with the afterbirth. "We're just cleaning him and you up."_

_Oliver went over and watched, utterly awed, as the baby was washed up and bundled into a snug blue blanket. He'd never really been interested in babies before this, but even the way the infant wriggled fascinated him. The loud squalls, rather than being irritating, were utterly entrancing to his ears._

_"Here we go, Mommy," the nurse announced cheerily, carrying the baby back to Felicity and handing him over. She held their son with more care than she would a brand-new computer, her own expression as amazed and adoring as Oliver was certain his own was._

_"Hey there," Felicity half-laughed, half-cried as she gazed down at the baby. Oliver perched beside her on the bed, transfixed by the child in her arms. "Hey there, Baby."_

_"He's amazing," Oliver said huskily. "This is the most amazing thing I've ever seen." She shot him a brief, but radiant, beam, before promptly looking back at the baby. He couldn't blame her. The thought of looking away was almost painful._

_"Have you guys chosen a name, or do you need longer to think about it?" Dr Jordan asked kindly._

_They exchanged a look._

_"You still happy with it?" Felicity asked softly. Oliver nodded._

_"Yeah, I still like it," he confirmed. "You?"_

_"Yes," she smiled widely and turned back to the doctor, who was waiting patiently for them to finish their little sidebar. "His name is William Connor Queen," she announced proudly. Oliver could've sworn that not even an angel sent down from heaven could be a more beautiful sight than his wife, sweaty and exhausted and bereft of any and all traces of make-up, holding their newly born and crying son to her chest._

_Remembering what he'd read in the books, Oliver carefully stuck out his finger, and an amazed grin tugged at his lips as the tiny digits wrapped around it instinctively. Despite knowing that Will's vision was nothing more than blurry shapes, if that, at the moment, he could have sworn the infant was gazing at him._

_"Hello William," he whispered to him, feeling Felicity watching them. "We're your mom and dad, and we are so glad you're here, Bud. We love you, so much."_

_"More than the sun and moon and stars," Felicity added softly in agreement._

* * *

John pulled his Starling City Rockets baseball cap low to hide his features as he casually leaned against the wall.

_"Freelancer, are you in position?"_ Felicity asked him via the comm.

"Yes, Artemis," he whispered back, unfolding a newspaper and flipping it open to the sports pages to add another barrier between himself and the ARGUS agents.

_"Good,"_ she murmured. _"I'm about to patch us into the ARGUS comm network, but we'll need to maintain radio silence, otherwise they'll know we're here."_

"Copy that, Artemis," he muttered. "Going to radio silence."

There was a buzz and some static, before he heard Lyla's voice whispering orders to her agents.

_"Trap one, this is Harbinger,"_ she murmured. _"Wait for Lawton to enter and make contact. Then we'll take him down."_

The Plaza was full of people, most, if not all, of whom were probably undercover ARGUS agents. Just above on the third level, Dig had spied a glimpse of metal that he knew was Felicity. There was a certain type of bitter irony in knowing she planned to turn Lawton's favoured weapon against him.

Dig felt a stab of gratefulness towards her. Never before had he had a friend as steadfast as Felicity Queen was proving to be. He had made the right decision all those months ago when he decided to join her crusade against crime, and this was the proof.

He tucked those thoughts away, returning to 'mission mode', as Oliver had sarcastically labelled it. Shielded from view by his newspaper, the pages of which he turned irregularly to maintain his cover, he studied the faces of everybody in the Plaza, whether they were maintenance workers, visitors, or whatever. But he couldn't see any sign of Lawton.

/

After twenty minutes, a man in a trench coat with a hat tugged low over his face strode into the Plaza. Dig braced himself, spying Lyla's own tension.

_"Trap one, possible target acquisition,"_ she warned. _"Get ready."_

Several 'cleaners' straightened and started to move away from their trolleys. John could see Lyla reaching for a gun hidden beneath her table. He braced himself, adrenaline beginning to pump through his veins, only for the man to pull off his hat and show that he was definitely not Deadshot.

_"Stand down,"_ Lyla ordered. _"Maybe Lawton didn't take the bait after all."_

A trickle of sweat made its way down the side of John's face as he surveyed the room tensely. He heard a click in the comm and Felicity spoke.

_"I've unhooked us for a moment,"_ she alerted him. Even with the voice modulator disguising her voice and emotions, he could pick up her concern. _"Freelancer, something's off."_

"I know," he agreed grimly. "Deadshot should have made contact by now."

Just then, a sharp crack to break through the low hum of the building. One of the undercovers collapsed, a pool of blood beginning to form around his head.

"We're blown!" Lyla yelled. "Take cover!"

" _Fuck!"_ Felicity exclaimed. _"Lawton knew!"_

"Lyla!" John yelled in panic. He raced forward, grabbing his ex-wife and yanking her out of the way of a bullet. He yanked out his gun and fired back. Lawton was directly opposite Felicity's position.

" _I'm going for him, Freelancer,"_ Felicity warned. He could both hear and see her returning fire, but her placement made it awkward, and bullets were flying all over the place. _"Stay in cover!"_

"Like hell, you won't make it in time!" John objected. She would have to go down the stairs to avoid being shot, and race across the square, sans any sort of cover. "I can't let him get away!" He scrambled up and ran towards where the bullets were coming from, but Lawton cornered him in the stairwell. He aimed a gun at John's chest, and held what, to Dig's panic and fury, looked like a dead man's switch in the other. The tight grip Deadshot kept on the button reinforced Dig's fear.

"On your knees!" the sniper barked sharply. "On your knees. Hands behind your head." He smirked when Dig reluctantly followed the instructions. "I saw you coming a mile away. Thanks for tipping me off."

"I'll kill you for what you did to Andy," John snarled at him bitterly, loathing for the man before him twisting his chest.

"I'd be pulling this trigger right now, except there's nobody paying me," Lawton retorted. He tapped his chest with the barrel of his gun for half-a-second before once again aiming at John, giving no chance for the vigilante/bodyguard to attack. "There's space for you right here, right next to your brother. You'd do best to remember that."

"How about _I_ shoot _you_ instead?" Felicity hissed, having finally appeared, a handgun pointed at Lawton's head and her expression steely and unforgiving. John felt a surge of relief at the sight of her.

"You won't," Lawton smirked.

"Underestimating me tends to be a person's last mistake," the archer replied icily.

"Same for me," Lawton shrugged. "But I amn't underestimating you. The opposite in fact. But at the same time, I know your type, so I know what you'll do. There's a bomb up there, in my perch. Planted it on a pillar. It goes off, the roof'll collapse. All I gotta do is take my thumb off this trigger."

Deadshot showed them the trigger, and Dig felt his heart fall. Felicity glanced at him, an apology in her eyes, and he knew the choice she'd made. The same one he would have made in her position. He bowed his head in resignation as she lowered her weapon.

"Go," she ordered the assassin angrily. "But believe me, Lawton. I'll make you pay if it's the last thing I _ever_ do. There are no lengths I won't go to for the people I care for. The world's a small place, and you can't escape me forever."

John saw a flash of unease cross the man's face, before he replaced it with his cocksure smirk and sauntered past the infuriated vigilante.

"Well, then," he said over his shoulder. "Looks like I'll be seeing you around, sweetheart."

The moment he was gone, the two of them were sprinting up the stairs, heading for the place where Lawton had set up his perch. As he had claimed, there was indeed a bomb in place, though thankfully it wasn't on a timer. Felicity crashed to her knees before it and began working urgently to disarm the bomb before the sniper could set it off, all the while Dig cursed and fumed.

Deadshot had gotten the best of them. Again.

* * *

Oliver was just finished tucking William into bed and entered his own bedroom, starting in shock when he found Felicity sitting on the bed, knees hugged to her chest and her chin resting on them.

"How'd it go?" He asked after a second. She glanced at him, her despondent expression saying more than any amount of words could.

"Lawton made the op," she informed him, leaning her head against his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around her, stroking her arm. "He set up a trap of his own. Four agents are dead, and there was a bomb, though I managed to disarm it. Had an argument with the agents, but a call to Waller dealt with that. That's something, at least."

"How's Dig?" Oliver murmured.

She shrugged. "Angry, upset," she listed. "But, a bit more balanced too, strangely enough. It's like all of his anger boiled over. It's still there, still simmering, but now he's back to being Dig. He's not gonna be at peace until he has Deadshot's head on a platter, but I think, I _hope_ , that he can breathe a bit again."

"Good," Oliver said. He eyed her. "You staying here tonight?" He wondered carefully. Her vulnerability was carefully hidden behind an even mask that he could see through as easily as glass.

"Am I welcome?"

"Lissy," his voice turned tender without him intending it. "You're always welcome."

She swallowed and nodded, eyes flicking to the floor for a brief moment before she uncurled from her huddle.

They went about getting changed, Felicity borrowing one of his shirts and leaving her panties on, then climbed into bed together. She had always fit in his arms as if she were made for them.

"We're gonna need to talk soon," she whispered to him, her breath ghosting over his sternum.

"I know," he agreed, because it was the truth. "But not tonight. Let's just go to sleep tonight."

"I do love you, you know," she added. "I never stopped."

"I love you too," he admitted. "Always have, and always will."


	18. The Road to Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A simple mission leads to a major one and heartbreak is the result

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow. As usual, thanks to everyone following this story, I'm so glad.**

**Chapter Eighteen**

**The Road to Hell...**

Breaking into Harold Backman's office was so easy Felicity was actually embarrassed _for_ him. Seriously, she could have done this when she was a teenager (well, that was a bit of an exaggeration, given she'd tripped over her own two feet as a teen, but the point still stood. He should've gotten better security if he wanted to take part in a life of crime.).

She exited the private lift and was immediately fired at by his security goons. There was only three of them, and she took them all out easily, leaving them unconscious and disarmed in the hallway as she stalked into the office where Backman was cowering against the wall with a panicked expression, gripping a laptop to his chest desperately. With his small frame and slightly too large suit, he reminded her of a child playing dress-up in his father's suit.

That image didn't stop her grabbing his collar and holding a knife to his neck, making him whimper in terror of her now-infamous wrath.

"Harold Backman, you have failed this city," she growled.

He panted heavily, eyes darting around the room before focusing on her. "I'm only an accountant!" He insisted. "I'm just the money."

"The money that leads to extortion, kidnapping, and drugs," she hissed back. "It's the destruction of innocent lives! Make no mistake, Backman. You're as guilty as your employers."

"You think you scare me more than them?" He attempted to scoff, though the sweat beading on his forehead said that she was at least as terrifying as them.

She smirked darkly. "Oh, don't worry," she cooed sinisterly. "They can deal with you themselves. Killing you would be a waste of a perfectly good arrow."

Then she punched his lights out, dropped him unceremoniously on the floor, snatched up his computer and sauntered off, pleased with another successful mission.

* * *

She went back to her loft apartment after changing out of her vigilante gear in an alleyway, where Oliver was working on some QC stuff and William was sleeping in his bedroom.

Her husband glanced up at her entrance, raising an eyebrow at the sight of the computer she was carrying. "What poor son of a bitch did you steal that from?" He asked mildly. "And is he still alive?"

"Harold Backman," Felicity replied as she attached it to her home system and began turning it on. "And yes, I left him alive. But his employers might not be so nice."

Oliver abandoned his work to peer over her shoulder at the screen. "Backman? Name's familiar."

"He's an accountant for the rich criminals of Starling," Felicity explained, eyes darting over the information on her screens.

"Then, and I realize this a radical idea but hear me out," Oliver said. "Shouldn't we, you know, hand this over to the IRS?"

"I will," Felicity promised. "Once I've finished returning the money to the people it belongs to."

"How long'll that take?"

She shrugged. "Few days at least," she answered.

"Lovely," Oliver said dryly, before switching the subject. "Any news from Dig?"

She grimaced, drawing her gaze away from the screens to meet his. "Nada," she admitted. "He hasn't texted since he sent the message that he, Carly and AJ had arrived at his mother's place."

The soldier had taken a fortnight off after the failed mission to eliminate his brother's murderer, taking his nephew and nephew's mom with him to visit his mother in Ivy Town for a bit. He was due back in a few days. Felicity hoped the break would do him good, because she was at a loss as to how to help him. She was still searching for any trace of Deadshot, but other than a murder of a French government official suspected to have been Lawton's handy work a few days ago, there was nothing.

Oliver sighed. "I hope he's okay," he muttered.

"Dig's tough," Felicity assured him. "He'll be alright."

Oliver nodded slowly. "I gotta go," he admitted, glancing at his watch. "Early morning meeting."

"Okay," Felicity nodded. "I'll drop Will off, and see you in the afternoon."

"See ya tomorrow," he agreed. There was a tension between them, like he was debating whether or not to lean in and kiss her goodbye. She compromised by kissing his cheek chastely and then going back to work after he had left, the door shutting softly behind him.

* * *

_'Get to base ASAP!'_

The message had Oliver rushing to leave and get over to the SCT building, using the hidden side entrance to get in. Felicity was bent over her screens, a fiercely determined expression on her face as she typed with lightning-fast fingers.

"What happened?" He asked urgently. "Did you get in?"

"Even better!" She replied brightly, a broad grin on her face. " I hacked Cayman Fidelity and put together a list all the deposits Backman made last year. I found out that the largest was a two-million-dollar deposit made the day Walter disappeared!"

Oliver's eyes went wide. "So you think one of Backman's clients was hired to kidnap Walter?" He asked eagerly. They'd been searching for months now with no leads. He feared the worst, but at least now they'd know.

"Dominic Alonzo," Felicity gestured to a picture of a sleazy-looking man on her right-hand computer screen. She grimaced. "He runs an underground casino with a bit of extortion and other crimes on the side. You know, like kidnapping people for money. Real stellar guy."

Oliver glared at the photo. "So, how many arrows do you think you'd need to stick him with to tell you where Walter is?" He asked her. She pursed her lips, frowning.

"It's not that simple, Oliver," she sighed. "That casino has its own private army. We need to access Alonzo's computer, but without setting off any alarms."

"So, what do we do then?" Oliver pressed. She grimaced, twisting a curl around her index finger thoughtfully.

"If Dig were here, I'd go in disguise with him as my back-up and plant a bug," she muttered. "But-"

"Well, what if I go?" Oliver suggested.

She shot him a sharp look. "We agreed, you'd stay out of the field, Oliver," she reminded him curtly. "I could-"

"Felicity, I can do this," he argued. "Remember, you taught me to count cards back in Boston. This is our family, Lissy. You can't stop me from doing this. Besides, you'll be right outside the whole time, won't you?"

She scowled, but glanced at the article on her left screen, showing a picture of Walter and talking about the FBI's investigation. Her shoulders slumped in defeat.

"Fine," she agreed grudgingly. "But we're doing this _my_ way, understood?"

* * *

_**Lian Yu: 2008** _

_Felicity, Shado and Slade made their way towards where the proximity detector had shown the group of people. All of them were tense and suspicious of the new arrivals to the island. One thing they all agreed on was that nobody would ever willingly come to Lian Yu for any good reason, and these guys were probably hostiles. Maybe even connected to Fyers' mysterious employer._

_Whoever it was, their sudden arrival had all of the trio on tenterhooks. They had all armed themselves before leaving the fuselage, Slade with his sword and a gun that was one of the many taken from the remnants of Fyers' camp, Shado with her bow and Felicity with two knives._

_"Someone's definitely out there," Slade commented in a low voice, scanning their surroundings and carrying the detector. "They're moving closer to our position."_

_"Or we're getting closer to them," Felicity pointed out lowly._

_Shado turned and darted for the hill they were next to._

_"Where do you think you're going?" Slade called after her. She paused and turned to smirk back at him._

_"Flanking position," she explained. "If they get the drop on you, you'll want some back-up."_

_"_ _**Be careful,** _ _" Felicity urged in Cantonese._

_"_ _**The same to you, Sister,** _ _" Shado replied in the same tongue._

_"You're getting good at that," Slade acknowledged. "I'll give you this, Princess. You learn fast."_

_"Thanks, I think," Felicity answered, raising an eyebrow._

_Just then, there was a loud gunshot._

_"Shado!" Felicity exclaimed, as they both started running towards the noise._

_But when they arrived in the clearing, all that was left was Shado's bow and the ragged hood that had once been her father's._

_Slade picked it up in shaking hands, panic and rage warring for dominance in his dark eyes. "We gotta find her," he said lowly._

_Felicity picked up the bow, stringing it and testing it to ensure it was in working condition. "Let's move," she responded curtly, her own anxiety and fear for her friend turning her voice sharp._

_She could only pray they wouldn't be too late._

* * *

Felicity was as composed as ever as they made their way down an alleyway parallel to Alonzo's casino, but Oliver felt more than a little queasy. This was his first time in the field since the Dodger case, and he couldn't keep from worrying. They'd left William with Raisa for the night, the Russian woman clearly believing they were going on a date (something they neither confirmed nor denied). She had given Oliver a delighted expression when Felicity wasn't looking. It was a shame she was wrong about their activities for the night, though he'd probably feel just as nervous about a date with his wife as he would about this, given the circumstances.

"You know the plan?" Felicity double-checked, adjusting the strap of the bag hanging off her shoulder. Oliver nodded, fists clenched.

"Get caught counting cards in an underground casino filled with hardened criminals so that I can get a friendly warning from Alonzo and plant a bug on his office computer," Oliver recited woodenly.

"Right," Felicity confirmed. "Which will hopefully lead us to Walter."

"That is assuming I get the friendly warning instead of a bullet," Oliver pointed out tensely.

"Oliver," she paused and grabbed his arm, tugging him around to look at her properly. "We can figure out another way. You don't have to do this."

Oliver felt his resolve steady. "Yes, I do," he insisted.

She studied him for a moment before nodding crisply. "Ok," she agreed. Oliver tried not to get entranced by how blue her eyes were. She hadn't put in the brown contacts yet. The only part of her outfit she wore was the purple leather catsuit beneath the long cloak-like coat. Her wig was peeking out of the bag on her shoulder. "Remember, if anything happens, I'm right outside."

"Yeah, I know," Oliver agreed, more than a little comforted by that fact. Maybe societal expectations should have made him feel humiliated by the fact that he trusted a woman to protect him, but Oliver knew that, although he did a fair amount of athletics, he had never been a fighter, and Felicity's skills had been forged in fire, as proven by the scars marring her torso.

"Okay," she nodded. They separated, Felicity heading to a fire escape that gave her a good vantage point over the casino while Oliver hovered out of sight until Felicity whispered in his comm.

"Password is snapdragon."

Pasting on his old 'Playboy Ollie' mask, Oliver sauntered up to the entrance with a cocky grin hanging on his lips.

"Password?" The guard grunted at him.

"Snapdragon," he answered with a wide smirk, before striding past into the casino.

"What do you see?" Felicity asked a few moments after he entered the room.

"6 armed guards, 2 pit bosses, and a floor man," Oliver reeled off.

"Good work," she remarked quietly. "I'm going to be quiet now, okay? I'll be right outside if something happens."

"Yeah," he breathed softly. He straightened his shoulders and pinned the fake smirk to his face before making his way over to the nearest table to put on a show.

Twenty minutes and four big wins later, he was 'asked' to come to see Alonzo.

"Oh look," he said brightly as the guard escorted him to the office. "There's the bathroom, right next to the manager's office. Isn't that handy?"

"Subtle," Felicity muttered dryly, though of course he couldn't respond.

Alonzo was finishing up a phone call when Oliver was escorted inside. He gave a forced smile, 'offering' Oliver a seat. Given the pair of armed guards in the room, the Queen scion figured it was best to accept.

"What's your name?" Alonzo asked him, startling Oliver and (from the quiet noise in his ear) Felicity at his lack of recognition.

"Uh, I'm Jonas," he answered, using his middle name as his alias because it was the first that came to mind.

"Please to meet you, Jonas," Alonzo replied. He steepled his fingers, leaning forward to give Oliver a piercing look. "Jonas, do you know where the term 'eighty-sixed' comes from?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact I do," Oliver confirmed as he discreetly placed the bug on the bottom of the desk. "It's from Prohibition." The benefit of being married to a genius was that you learned all sorts of random trivia.

"And now it means to ban a cheater," Alonzo stated, voice full of steel and irritation. "You're eighty-sixed. Leave your chips and get out of here."

"Yes sir, thank you," Oliver replied, rising from his chair. But before he could get out, Alonzo stopped him.

"One more thing, Jonas," he called after him, also standing and coming over to stand uncomfortably close to Oliver. "See, the thing about card counters is that, sometimes, they work with a partner." With that, he reached out and pulled the comm from Oliver's ear, dropping it to the floor and crushing it beneath his foot.

Oliver gave it a stony look before turning his gaze to Alonzo. "That," he informed him. "Was a really bad idea. Ruining her tech and threatening me. I almost feel sorry for you."

Almost.

Not even a full second later, sounds of gunfire and screaming started, and Oliver knew that Felicity had launched a rescue.

Being used as a hostage, an explosion, and Alonzo's announcement of Walter's death later, Oliver staggered into his mansion, devastation coursing through him as he entered the living room. His mom and sister were both there, grinning as they did something on a tablet.

"Hey," Thea greeted him warmly. "I'm just teaching Mom the joys of internet shopping." Her smile faded and concern replaced it when she registered his distraught expression. "Ollie? What's wrong?"

He swallowed, sitting down and reaching out to take one of each of their hands in his own. "I need to talk to both of you," he told them, a bit of unsteadiness in his voice as much as he tried to be strong for them.

"What is it?" His mom asked, expression alarmed.

"It's about Walter," Oliver croaked out, tears stinging at his eyes.

"Did the police contact you?" His mom wondered, worry in her eyes. Thea was tense and pale, her bottom lip trembling.

"One of Mr. Diggle's army buddies works for the FBI now," Oliver began. "And they got news tonight." Thea started to sob as Moira shook her head in denial.

"No," she insisted.

"I'm so sorry," he said, voice cracking.

His mother shook her head desperately. "No, no, no, no, no," she repeated. "There must be some mistake. Who did Mr. Diggle talk to? Did they find a body?"

"Mom... Walter's gone," Oliver insisted painfully.

She wrenched her hands out of his grasp and jumped to her feet. "No," she muttered, shaking her head. "This isn't right." She began stalking out of the room, a wild air around her.

"Where are you going?" Oliver called after her.

"Out," she muttered.

"It's 10:00 at night," he protested.

"I need some air," she retorted.

"Mom, you're in shock," he told her.

"Don't tell me what or how I feel, Oliver!" She half-screamed at him, before rushing out the door.

Thea, tears falling freely from her green eyes, came to his side. "Why is she acting like that?" She sniffled. Oliver had no explanation for her. He opened his arms and gathered her into an embrace.

"Come here," he told her, rocking her from side to side. A second later she pulled away.

"You should go after her," she sniffled. "Make sure that-that she's okay. She shouldn't be alone right now, she's not thinking straight."

Oliver nodded solemnly, passing his distraught sister into Raisa's loving and sympathetic arms before rushing after his mom.

The conversation he overheard when he eavesdropped on her and Malcolm's conversation shattered his already broken heart.

* * *

When he arrived at the base, the lights were off and Felicity, still in her vigilante gear but sans wig, mask and contacts, was sitting on the floor, spinning an arrow in her hands and staring at the opposite wall in silence.

She turned her head to look at him when he entered, and the part of Oliver that wasn't numb noted the traces of tears on her cheeks and her red-rimmed eyes.

"Oliver?" She croaked out, levering herself off of the floor. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be with Thea and your mom?"

"Walter's alive," Oliver replied. "You need to pull up Malcolm Merlyn's phone records. He made a call from his office to wherever Walter is being kept at 10:30 p.m."

"Malcolm Merlyn?" Felicity repeated, voice bewildered as she slid into her seat and began tapping at the keyboard. "Tommy's father? Why would he kidnap Walter? And what do you mean, _is_ being kept? Alonzo-"

"Felicity," Oliver cut her off. She fell silent and he returned his attention to the screens. "LUD showed he made a call to a tenement complex located in Bludhaven," she informed him. "I'm pulling up a satellite view now."

He could see her shifting gears, settling into 'mission mode' and tucking away her personal feelings as she surveyed the images she had pulled up. "Lot of security for low-income housing," she remarked, arms crossing over her chest. In any other situation, Oliver probably would've been distracted by how the action pushed up her breasts or made her biceps flex slightly. But not now, when it felt as if he was drowning and barely keeping his head above the water.

"There're two guards stationed at all access points," he pointed out.

"But there's just one on the roof," she replied.

"There's no other buildings in that area," he told her. "If you want to get onto the roof, you're going to have to jump off of something."

"I've got something," she promised.

"Then go," he urged her, jaw clenched. She hesitated, eyeing him with subtle concern. Her expression remained as calm and steady as ever, but her eyes were worried.

"Oliver, how did you find out about this?" She pressed him, resting a hand on his arm and frowning at him, actually letting her true emotions show for once. "You're not acting like yourself."

He gritted his teeth as the memory of his mom and Merlyn's conversation ran through his mind again. "After I told Mom and Thea that Walter was dead, Mom freaked and stormed out. I followed her to Merlyn's office, where I heard her accuse him of breaking their deal."

"Moira made a deal with Malcolm Merlyn to kidnap Walter?" Felicity's eyes widened in surprise, before they narrowed. He could practically see the gears shifting in her mind, adjusting everything she knew to fit with this new information.

"Yes," he said bluntly. "And we have a deal for you to save him. Are you going or not?"

She finally moved, grabbing her wig and quiver, as well as one of her encrypted phones. "Go home and act like everything's the same as earlier," she instructed him over her shoulder as she began darting up the stairs to the hidden door. "I'll alert you when I've secured Walter."

* * *

The next afternoon, Oliver let out a subtle sigh of relief after leaving the room containing his family. It had made his stomach twist, to stand there and wear a smile as he watched his mother fuss over Walter, as if she hadn't been at fault for him going missing in the first place.

"Oliver!" The voice of the only person he wanted to see less than his mom called just after he stepped into the hallway. He tensed and turned, clinging to his composure by his fingernails and suppressing the urge to lunge at Merlyn and beat his face in. "I just heard the news," Merlyn went on, an expression of false relief and pleasure on his face. It was good. Had he not known the truth, Oliver wouldn't have noticed the subtle signs of tension in the man's face and body language. "What a miracle," the older man continued. "How's Walter? The police are saying that he was rescued by the Vigilante."

"Yeah," Oliver answered, voice hoarse. "Yeah, he was." He felt his hands clench into fists as he feigned obliviousness to Malcolm's actions.

"Has he said anything about his ordeal?" Malcolm inquired. "Was he able to identify any of his captors?" Only a day ago, Oliver would've thought that genuine concern was driving the questioning, even if he would have been surprised that Malcolm could care enough for that. Now, he realized that Merlyn was worried that Walter might be able to connect him to the kidnapping.

"No," Oliver said flatly.

"Hmm," Malcolm hummed, what Oliver assumed was relief glinting in his eyes. "That's too bad."

"They'll get what's coming to them," Oliver said darkly, partially a statement of fact and partially a warning. "I'm just glad that my family is back together."

"We all are," Malcolm agreed.

"Excuse me," Oliver said stonily. "I need to get going. QC doesn't stop running just because its' CEO is rescued from being held hostage for six months."

"Oh, of course," Malcolm nodded. "See you soon, I hope."

"Mmm," Oliver forced out, feeling his nails dig into his palms. As soon as that was over with, he returned to his car and drove back to the base as quick as he could.

Felicity and Diggle, who had arrived back yesterday night and been contacted by Felicity post-Walter's rescue, were there already, the computer screens full of information on his mother, Merlyn, and their two corporations. They glanced at him with serious expressions as he stalked in.

"What have we got?" He demanded gruffly as he threw himself into a chair.

"Not a lot," Dig grimaced. "Felicity and I were just saying that I should drive your mom around for a bit, see if I can learn anything. We'll tap her phone lines, see if we hear anything about this Undertaking."

"Good idea," Oliver replied woodenly.

"Oliver," Felicity perched on his desk, meeting his gaze. Sympathy and concern shone in her sky-coloured eyes. "Are you sure that you want to be involved in this? I mean, we're gunning for your mother and your best friend's father. Neither of us would blame you for wanting to back out..."

He cut her off with a firm headshake. It felt as if his whole world had been turned on its axis, but he knew one thing.

"I'm in this, Felicity. I'm in, and I'm not backing out."

She studied him for a moment, weighing his conviction, then gave a short nod and slid off the desk. "Alright," she agreed. "I was thinking we look into this Tempest thing. See if there's anything about it that might help us figure out what the end goal of this whole thing is."

Oliver felt himself steady as he watched as she began pulling up the desired information. Everything else in his life might have been in pieces, but not this. Not the team.

Not Felicity.


	19. Is Paved With Good Intentions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team learns what the Undertaking is

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow. Double update!**

**Chapter Nineteen**

**...Is Paved With Good Intentions**

"I've been following Moira for a week now, guys," Dig reported once Oliver had arrived at the base after finishing work. "And I got nothing. She goes to work, she comes home. Occasionally she goes out for dinner. She seems to favour the salmon at Table Salt. That's it."

"Nothing on the phone taps, either," Felicity frowned. "A couple innocuous calls to Malcolm Merlyn, but that's it. No mention of Walter's kidnapping or the Undertaking. It's all regular pleasantries and work stuff."

"Why wouldn't she call him?" Oliver asked bitterly, glaring at the floor. "They're old friends. We're all, old friends."

Felicity chewed the inside of her cheek, rising to her feet and coming over to lean on his shoulder. "This is probably a stupid question," she said softly. "But are you ok?"

"My mom and my best friend's dad are involved in a conspiracy that may have dire consequences for the city," he replied flatly. "And I'm pretty sure they murdered my father and God knows how many others. I'm not planning on using the word "ok" again any time soon."

"Listen," Dig stated briskly. "All we know for sure is that Malcolm and your mother are planning something for the Glades."

"And that Walter was getting too close to it," Felicity added. "That's why they had him kidnapped. We have to find out what this Undertaking is."

Oliver stood suddenly, nearly knocking Felicity off-balance. "I gotta ask her," he declared.

"Oliver, no-" Felicity objected in alarm, but he cut her off with a headshake.

"It'll be fine, Felicity," he assured her. "Just a regular mother-son chat. Nothing to worry about."

She gave him a helpless look, tugging on her ponytail in agitation. "Be careful," she urged him desperately.

"I will," he promised, grabbing his jacket and heading for the door.

An hour and a half later, he called to announce that his mother had blown him off, so they had to come up with a Plan B.

Oliver braced himself, checking in the hall mirror to ensure that there was no trace of guilt at what was about to happen on his expression before he entered the living room. His mother was staring out the window, a troubled expression on her face. She turned when she heard his footsteps, a strained smile forming on her face.

"Walter's upstairs resting," she told him. "I think he's... doing well, don't you?"

"Who took him?" Oliver asked her softly.

Her smile disappeared. "Well, we don't know yet," she reminded him. "But I'm going to make sure all the resources of Queen Consolidated are behind it."

Oliver swallowed. This was _hard_. Harder than nearly anything else he had ever done before. How could this be happening? "That's the answer that you gave to reporters yesterday," he pointed out lowly. "Tell me the truth."

She scoffed, but her eyes failed to meet his. "I don't know what you mean," she stated.

"I think you do," he refuted her. "A couple months ago, when I showed you Dad's notebook, you seemed to know something. Something about our family being in danger."

"Are you suggesting that I knew something about my husband's kidnapping?" She demanded, voice and face outraged. But he could see the fear in her eyes, and his heart clenched.

"I'm just suggesting that maybe you were scared," he corrected her. He couldn't bring himself to believe that she was doing whatever she and Merlyn were doing out of maliciousness, despite what Dig and Felicity clearly believed. She was his _mother_. "That maybe you didn't mean for any of this to happen. But it was harder than you thought. And now you're barely keeping your head above water. Please, Mom," he begged. "Let me help you before you drown."

"You need to stop asking these things," she insisted, clearly panicked now. "Do you understand? I need you to _stop_."

"I can't," he argued back. "I need to know."

All of a sudden, the lights turned off and the room was plunged into darkness.

"Is that a power outage?" His mother asked, frowning in confusion.

"I don't know," Oliver lied as he braced himself. A second later, he felt a pain in his neck and his senses began to blur immediately as the sedative kicked into gear. He collapsed to his knees, hearing his mother calling his name in a terrified voice as he fell unconscious.

"Oliver! Oliver!"

* * *

_**Starling City: 2007** _

_William was howling, and nothing Oliver did could soothe him. He paced the room, holding the unhappy baby close to his chest so Will could hear his heartbeat, he sat in the rocking chair and moved it back and forth repetitively for an hour, he put on lullabies._

_Nothing. William wanted his mama to put him to bed, the way she usually did. Although he had acquiesced to Daddy putting him to sleep the night she left, he had now gone almost two days without seeing Felicity, and clearly wasn't taking the separation well at all. Oliver didn't blame for it at all. He missed Felicity too._

_"C'mon, kiddo," Oliver begged exhaustedly. "Go to sleep. Daddy's tired, you're tired, we'll call Mommy in the morning, how about that? But tomorrow's not gonna come until you go to sleep, so how 'bout it?"_

_Will sniffled miserably, breaking Oliver's heart as the baby curled closer to his chest. Just then, there was a loud scream, and it set William to sobbing hysterically all over again, this time out of fright instead of tiredness. Holding his son close and on his guard, Oliver left the nursery. Thea was sticking her head out of the door, pale and nervous looking. Raisa was in the hall, standing just in front of the twelve-year-old with an alarmed expression on her face. He could hear someone crying. It sounded almost like his mom, and it was coming from his parents' bedroom, but it made no sense. Moira Queen_ _**never** _ _cried, not even when her children or grandson were born, or during his wedding._

_What could possibly break the unbreakable?_

_"Raisa," Oliver said to her, keeping of a façade of calm for Thea's sake, because she looked on the verge of tears and two crying Queens was enough for the moment. "Take Will and Thea back inside her room. Lock the door, and wait for me to come and get you before opening it again."_

_"Yes, Mister Oliver," the Russian woman who'd been his second mother his whole life said solemnly, accepting the squirming and sobbing baby and cradling him close. "Come on, Miss Thea. We will wait for your brother."_

_"But Ollie, that sounds like Mom!" Thea objected. "Why is she crying? Ollie?"_

_"Go with Raisa, Speedy," he insisted, voice strained. "I'll sort it. Just get Will to calm down, please?" Tasked with the care of her adored nephew, Thea gave in and ducked back into the room. He waited until he heard the lock lick before heading down the hall to his mom's room. It felt like sloughing through mud, and his heart was in his throat._

_Whatever had happened to make his mom shatter, Oliver didn't want to find out what it was._

_"Mom?" He asked carefully, pushing the door open. Moira was on her knees on the carpet, sobbing and shaking. She looked at him with a despairing look._

_"Oh, oh Oliver," she wept. "It's-the Gambit! Oh God, oh God, please no!"_

_Oliver felt himself pale and he grabbed the doorframe in terror. The Gambit. Felicity. His dad._

_"What happened?" He croaked out._

_"There was a storm," she gasped out, tears streaming down her cheeks, drenching her face. "A, a Category Two. The Gambit-it sent out a distress signal. And now-it's not responding. They're gone, Oliver! Robert, Felicity! They're gone!"_

_His legs gave out and hit the floor on all fours, his vision blackening. As he collapsed, he almost thought he heard Felicity scream._

* * *

Felicity stepped forward, silent as a ghost, after Moira had fallen unconscious on top of her son. The door was closed, Diggle had arranged for the guards to all be away from the area and the outage had been confined to the sitting room, so nobody was likely to notice anything was wrong.

She crouched beside the two Queens, quickly checking them over to ensure that neither was hurt. Once she had ensured that they were merely unconscious, she made her way over to the window and opened it.

Dig was waiting just outside with two gurneys and he gave her a quick nod. She nodded back, maintaining her silence as she again returned to the mother-son pair and first collected Moira, throwing the older blonde over her shoulder in a fireman's carry and carrying her over to the window to pass her out to Diggle. He accepted the woman and laid her out on the first gurney, strapping her in as Felicity went back for Oliver. He was a lot heavier than his mother, but she managed to haul him over and hand him out to her partner, who strapped him in as Felicity climbed out the window to join him, taking care not to disturb the flowers beneath the window.

"You ready for this?" Dig asked her softly as they pushed the gurneys towards the waiting van. Thankfully, the Queens kept their grass cut short enough that there were no lines noticeable from the wheels.

She shot him a stony look. "Not my first interrogation, Diggle," she muttered. She knew how it worked. She'd learned the 'art' of interrogation, using a mixture of psychological and physical torment, in ARGUS, and she had perfected it in the Bratva. It would be a bit harder this time due to her care for Oliver, but she was good at feigning indifference.

On any other occasion, the dark-skinned man would probably have taken the opportunity to try and get more information on her obscured past from her. But this time he simply nodded and accepted it, though she had no doubt he was storing the hint away for another, less fraught, time.

Right now, however, they had a mission to complete.

* * *

Oliver struggled back to consciousness, his head pounding and his neck stinging where Felicity had hit him with the dart. It took a moment to remember what was going on. His first attempt to talk to his mom about the Undertaking had fallen through, so he'd come up with this idea instead. After some objections, Felicity had given in and agreed to the plan.

He raised his head, blinking to clear the blurriness from his vision. As expected, his legs were tied to the legs of the chair they'd put him in, and his hands were tied at his back. The ties weren't too tight. Had he wanted to, he thought he could have gotten free, using some of the tricks Felicity and Dig had taught him. But that wasn't the plan, so he forced himself to stay in place, looking around the dimly lit warehouse until he spotted his mom, just across from him. He had no doubt that, unlike for him, the others would have tied her tightly and properly, so she couldn't get away.

"Mom?" He called to her, slightly surprised by the hoarseness of his voice.

"Ol'ver?" She mumbled, blatantly dazed as she stirred. She raised her head, blinking confusedly. She tried to rise to get to him, and shot back to alertness when she realized their situation.

"Mom, are you okay?" He asked, forcing himself to sound genuinely worried and frightened.

"We need to get out of here!" She exclaimed in response, straining against her bonds.

Just then, they heard a soft tap-tap and turned to look in its direction on instinct.

Oliver had never been scared of Felicity, even after discovering that she was the vigilante. Not even listening over the comms as she threatened criminals into compliance, or outright killed them, had made him fear her. He'd simply never felt any fear towards her. Fear _for_ her, yes. Fear _of_ her? Never. How could he, when it was _Felicity_?

But now he finally understood why the criminals of Starling City checked their closets for her before going to sleep at night.

The way she walked into the light made it seem as if she were forming out of shadows, first her heeled boots (the source of the ominous tapping noise), then her tight dark purple pants and the bottom of her cloak-like coat, the weak light glinting off the knives on her hips, then her torso and finally her head, face covered by the hood of her coat.

"Moira Queen," she said in a soft, sinister voice that sent shivers up and down his spine. "You have failed this city."

The creepiest thing, Oliver mused absently, was how detached she sounded. It was as if she were commenting on the weather, stating a fact she cared nothing about, not saying the phrase that had come to mean death to the ears of those who heard.

His mother recoiled, face draining of colour. "Please, don't hurt my son!" She begged. He swallowed against the guilt he felt at terrorizing her like this, reminding himself that she had known about Merlyn sabotaging his father's yacht, and had either helped, or at least not prevented, it, thus causing the deaths of five people, including his dad and Sara. The act that had stolen Felicity from him for five hellish years.

"Tell me what the Undertaking is," Felicity replied in an almost idle voice as she tap-tapped her way over to his side. "And I won't have to."

His mom mouthed soundlessly at her, a stricken look on her face. Felicity stood between him and his mother, raising her eyebrow at him in a silent question. He nodded a fraction. He could handle it, and they _needed_ to do this. She nodded slightly back and gave an irritated sigh, as if the whole thing was annoying her, then punched him, straight in the nose. He groaned in pain as his head snapped back painfully, a loud crunch signalling his nose was now broken. He shot her a glare.

So much for holding back.

"No!" His mom cried. "Oliver! Please! Stop!"

"Tell me what Merlyn's planning," Felicity instructed her, moving to the side so his mother could see the blood leaking from his nostrils.

"I can't," Moira wept. "He'll kill my whole family!"

Felicity hit him again, but when his mom simply sobbed she grabbed the knife resting on her left hip and held it to his throat. Oliver forced himself not to gulp, reminding himself that it was Felicity, and this was just a show to make his mother talk.

"Oliver!" His mom cried. "Please no!"

"It's not Malcolm Merlyn currently holding a knife to your son's carotid artery," Felicity informed his mother coolly. "If I cut it, he'll bleed out between thirty seconds to a minute. I suggest you worry a little less about Merlyn, and a bit more about _me_."

His mother crumbled. "Malcolm is planning to level the Glades!" She cried, eyes fixed on the knife at his throat. Felicity pulled the knife away enough for his mom to see it, but close enough to keep it a threat. "He said it was so that he could rebuild it, but..." She trailed off, shaky and pale.

Oliver felt sick. Level the Glades, and kill everybody in it. And his mother was _involved_ in this. How could she live with herself?

"How?" Felicity demanded, somehow still composed though there was now traces of worry in her voice. They were subtle enough that most wouldn't recognize them, especially with the modulator, but Felicity was Felicity and Oliver could still read her like a book.

"There's a device," his mom stuttered.

"What device?!" Felicity bit out, her anger more intimidating than her cold indifference.

"He says that it can cause an earthquake," his mother explained tearfully.

"How is that possible?" Felicity barked out.

"I don't know," Moira wept in response. "It was invented by Unidac Industries. Malcolm used my company's Applied Sciences to turn it into a weapon."

"Why would you get involved in something like this?" Felicity asked. Oliver knew she was only asking for his sake, but he appreciated it anyway.

Moira's shoulders slumped. "My husband, Robert... He got involved without my knowing," she explained. "He was just trying to do some good. He was lost. He... His decisions left me vulnerable to Malcolm, and I had no choice. Malcolm had already killed Robert, he said that he would kill my children and grandson as well if I didn't help him. I had to protect my children."

Are we really worth thousands of other people's children, though? Oliver wondered. He loved his sister with everything in him, William was worth the world to him, but he didn't think he could choose them over thousands of other people. It would be putting the blood on Thea and William's hands too. Moira'd had other options, the police, the FBI, _something_. But she had chosen this instead, and he could neither understand nor forgive it.

"This device," Felicity said. "Where is it?"

"I don't know," his mother whimpered.

"If you don't tell me, I can't stop Merlyn!" Felicity snapped.

"Oh, you can't stop him," his mom replied defeatedly. "It's too late." Felicity turned towards him, raising the knife again.

"No, no, no, I told you everything!" Moira shrieked in panic, but Felicity merely cut his bonds before stalking over to her and releasing her as well. She left urgently, as his mother raced over to his side. "Oliver!" She cried.

"Don't touch me!" He hissed, recoiling from her touch. He had never felt so disgusted by her before.

"Oh, sweetheart," she pleaded. "Please, I know what you must be thinking, darling, but I never intended any of this to happen." He coughed, struggling to his feet and fighting off the dizziness he felt from the lingering remnants of the drug and from the punches Felicity had rained on him.

"You know I would never willingly be a part of anything like this," Moira insisted tearfully. "Darling, please."

He stalked away, clenching his fists. "I don't know anything anymore," he answered bitterly as he headed for the exit. He needed to meet up with Felicity and Dig so they could figure out how to stop Merlyn.

* * *

"So much for pulling your punches," he greeted the team wryly.

"Don't be a baby," Felicity replied mildly, not looking away from the computers she was working away at frantically. "I didn't even wear my brass knuckles. Anyway, worst case scenario, you spring for some plastic surgery. Don't worry, the straight women and gay men of Starling will be back to swooning over you in no time at all."

"Ahem," Dig coughed pointedly. "Shall we back to it?"

Felicity gave a crisp nod. "I pulled up what I could on Unidac, but the headline is the massacre."

"Yeah, Mom got really upset when she saw it earlier," Oliver agreed, tensing when he mentioned his mother.

"So, what else do we know about Unidac?" Dig asked, finally joining the conversation.

"Well, we know that Queen Consolidated acquired them seven months ago," Oliver offered as his wife searched for more information.

"Yeah, well we kinda need information about what we _don't_ know," Felicity said tensely.

"Well, what do you have?" Dig inquired.

"Unidac is a small research and development technology company that specializes in seismic infringement," Oliver explained, recalling the information he'd read while prepping for the merger and what his mom had said. "Merlyn plans on levelling the Glades with a device that triggers a manmade earthquake."

"That's crazy," Dig muttered.

"Yeah, well clearly so is Merlyn," Felicity drawled in response.

"What else is there?" Oliver asked.

"More information on the stock auction and the massacre," she muttered, scanning the headlines as quickly as she could.

"There's no way this timing is a coincidence," Dig pointed out.

Oliver sucked in a sharp breath as his eyes caught on something and he quickly pointed to it. "Felicity, look. There's a website claiming the police suspect the copycat archer is involved in the killings," he informed her, wide eyed.

"What?" She hissed, eyes flashing furiously at the mention of the man who had nearly killed her at Christmas. She read it over herself, expression darkening in rage. "Fuck! That explains so much!"

"So the other archer works for Merlyn?" Dig clarified.

Felicity hit the side of the desk. "He's tying up loose ends," she said quickly. "Erasing all evidence this device exists so no one can trace the devastation back to him."

"Alright, so you need to have a pointed conversation with Mr. Merlyn," Dig began, but Felicity shook her head.

"No, it's not enough," she insisted. "Even if I take out Merlyn, the other archer is still out there. He can set off the device. We need to find it. _Then_ Merlyn can get his."

* * *

Soon enough, it became clear that they'd need to break into MGG to hack the mainframe. Dig slipped in as a security guard, Oliver pretended to have a meeting about one of the multiple projects that QC and MGG were working on, while Felicity dressed up as Big Belly delivery girl with an excessive amount of make up on who chewed her gum too loudly.

It went nerve wrenchingly smooth, up until Felicity ended up cornered by a guard as she was heading for the elevators.

"Hey!" He barked, making her freeze. "You! What are you doing?"

She turned around, wide-eyed, and instantly sighed in relief, pressing a hand to her chest (thus drawing attention to her neckline. The shirt was unbuttoned, giving a teasing glimpse at the top of her breast. As predicted, his eyes flicked down briefly.).

"Oh, thank God," she gushed, putting a sway in her hips as she went over to him, batting her eyelashes. The guy was falling for it, hook, line and sinker. Through her earpiece, she could hear Dig's groaning.

"Uhm, can I help you Miss?" The guard asked, looking downward to meet her gaze. She had deliberately positioned herself so he was looking down her shirt.

"I was delivering the order to one of the other guards," she said earnestly. She laid a hand on his chest, making him gulp. "But I got off on the wrong floor, and now I've no idea where I am. This place is a maze! I don't suppose you could give a girl a hand and show me out?"

"Sure," he said dazedly, still staring blatantly at her chest. Felicity suppressed the urge to roll her eyes, giggling and flirting with the man until they reached the ground floor, where she used her Sharpie to write a fake number on his hand and sashayed away.

She was startled to see Oliver looming over the kid from the subway and Thea, who was, thankfully, too distracted by whatever Oliver was saying to notice Felicity leaving. Dig was outside waiting in the car when she arrived and slipped inside.

"God, that was painful," he told her once she shut the door, starting the car. Oliver would be making his own way back.

She smirked and raised a shoulder in a half-shrug. "Clichés are cliché for a reason," she acknowledged. "But they _do_ work."

"Whose number d'you give the poor guy?" He asked with an amused look. She gave him a look of mock innocence, laying a hand over her heart.

"Would I give an innocent man the number of an MMA fighter married to a cop who wouldn't take too well to be called by some random guy making salacious comments?" She retorted cheerily, making him snort and shake his name.

"You're a devil, you know?" He grinned at her.

She simply shrugged and smiled with a wink before pulling out her tablet and getting down to work.

/

She was sorting through the data when Oliver returned. "What was that with Thea and the kid?" She asked him, glancing away from her screens. "Are you that upset that your sister's dating?"

"Roy Harper is your new biggest fan," Oliver huffed, tossing his jacket onto the table. "He's been trying to track you down ever since you saved him."

"What?" Felicity raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Why?"

Oliver shrugged irritably. "No idea," he replied grumpily. "But I told him to back off. Said you were a psycho and that you killed anyone who got in your way."

Felicity flinched before she could stop herself. "Wow," she muttered. "Tell me how you really feel, why don't'cha?"

He gave her a fond look. "I didn't mean it, Felicity," he insisted. "But I don't want Thea getting mixed up in this."

She cleared her throat, nodding. "Right, well, anyway," she said, feeling uncomfortable. "I installed a trojan in MGG's systems. I'm searching for the info on the device, but it'll take a while. There's nearly a petabyte of data to search through."

"It's progress though," Oliver pointed out hopefully. "That's more than we had this morning."

Felicity wasn't listening. Her gaze had landed on the book, the thing that had started this whole mission of hers. She picked it up, skimming through the pages without bothering to look at them. She had them all memorized anyway.

"Felicity?" Oliver asked worriedly.

"You alright?" Dig added.

She shrugged. "I told myself when I finished crossing names off the List, I'd be done," she muttered, talking more to herself than to her companions. "I'd've made up for surviving where the others didn't." She was too distracted to see the stricken expression that crossed Oliver's face as she spoke. "But crossing the names off wasn't what Robert wanted me to do. I. was just treating the symptoms of the disease, not stopping it. I stop the Undertaking, that's it, I wipe out the disease."

"What're you saying Felicity?" Diggle asked. When she looked at the guys, they had concerned looks on their faces. "Are you gonna hang up the bow?"

"I don't know," she mumbled. In all honesty, the thought of it scared her. She'd been fighting for so long, the thought of stopping terrified her far more than any battle ever had. She shook her head, running a hand through her blonde locks. "It doesn't matter right now," she stated decisively. "We need to focus on the Undertaking, not what's happening afterwards."

"Whatever you decide," Dig said softly. "Remember that we're with you."

"Always," Oliver added softly.

* * *

She tracked the device to a warehouse in the Glades owned by Malcolm, while their bugs placed the man himself in his office at MGG.

"We'll coordinate our ops," she declared to the guys, her blood pumping with adrenaline. "You two take the device, I'll go for Merlyn."

"Without back-up?" Dig objected. "No, Felicity. He has the Dark Archer with him, and you know what happened last time."

"I've got this," she insisted stubbornly. "The device is the most important thing. It'll be fine." She left before either could protest any further, riding her bike at top speed to reach Merlyn.

He was on the phone when she strode in, arrow knocked and ready to fire.

"Can I help you?" He asked when she entered. "No, not you," he said to whoever he was on the phone with. "I have to go, I have a visitor. Good evening." He hung up and turned his focus on her. A part of Felicity that hadn't locked down her emotions entirely for the sake of the mission was surprised at how calm he was. Her reputation had long ago preceded her, and she was used to terror and pleas or bribes, not arrogance and casual talk.

"Malcolm Merlyn," she said with weight. "You have failed this city."

"And how did I do that?"

"The Undertaking," she replied. "It ends now."

Just then, Diggle patched into her Bluetooth. "Artemis, the device! It's not here!"

She aimed the arrow right at Merlyn's heart. "Where's the device?" She snarled. He smirked cockily.

"Safe," he declared. "I don't know how you managed to get that trojan on my systems, but it prompted me to take precautions."

Felicity bit back a curse, fingers clenching around her bow as Merlyn continued to ramble.

"There is no way for you to prevent what's about to happen," he announced, rising and rounding the desk, Felicity keeping the arrow aimed at his heart. "And you shouldn't bother to try. This is for the best. Starling City needs what is about to happen. The people ruining this city from the inside must be eliminated!"

"Fine," Felicity retorted icily. "Let's start with you." She released the arrow, but was stunned when Merlyn caught it in mid-air with lightning fast reflexes.

"Amusing, is it not?" The CEO remarked with a deadly smile. "I tried to kill you at Christmas, then a few months ago you saved my life. Make up your mind!"

Felicity scowled as he spoke, furious with herself for not putting the pieces together sooner, but she didn't hesitate to fire another arrow. "Done!" She retorted as she dashed forward, trading her bow for her katana.

She'd been training herself mercilessly ever since Christmas, knowing that she would fight the Dark Archer again eventually, but to no avail. She lasted longer this time, but it still wasn't long before he managed to disarm her, get her on the ground, and kick her in the throat, knocking the breath out of her and sending her into unconsciousness.


	20. Man Will (Not) Destroy This Earth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trio races to stop Malcolm and save the Glades

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow. This is a double update, so if you just jumped to the last page, click back one please!**

**Read, enjoy and review!**

_The earth will end only when God declares it's time to be over. Man will not destroy this earth._

_John Shimkus_

**Chapter Twenty**

**Man Will (Not) Destroy This Earth**

She was woken up abruptly by ice water being poured over her, and quickly took stock of her current situation.

She was hanging upside down by her ankles in what seemed to be an empty warehouse, its sole light source that of a thin stream of sunlight coming from the window. She was naked save for her bra and panties, and the sole injury she could feel was her head wound, which was also still bloody, knotting her hair as it dried.

It said a lot of things that this actually wasn't the worst situation she'd ever woken up in.

A man carrying a bucket walked away, but Felicity didn't bother calling out to him. He was just the muscle, and would be either too loyal to or else too intimidated by Merlyn to interact with her. Instead, she looked around, sizing up her options.

"I hope I didn't hurt you," Merlyn said with false concern as he strolled him, hands tucked into his pockets. Felicity supressed an eyeroll. It seemed that Merlyn was one of _those_ psychos, the ones that liked to monologue and talk about why their crimes were for the good of the world. Felicity actually preferred the ones like Fyers, who at least owned up to his crimes and acknowledged that he was a selfish, psychotic bastard willing to slaughter God knew how many innocents for the sake of his bank account.

"I've had worse," Felicity answered coldly, glaring at Tommy's father. How the fuck was it possible that _Tommy Merlyn_ , one of the kindest guys she'd ever met, had come from this lunatic? Rebecca Merlyn must've been one hell of a woman. Or maybe he was adopted. Switched at birth or something. It made a heck of a lot more sense than the two men sharing genetics.

"Yes, I can see that," Merlyn mused, eyes ghosting over her form. "At least now I can thank you properly for saving my life," he went on.

She felt her lips twist bitterly, glowering at him. "Don't worry about it," she shot back. "I'll make sure to fix my mistake ASAP."

He smirked and shook his head. "You're quite the spitfire, Felicity," he told her. "I see why Oliver fell in love with you." His expression fell. "My Rebecca was a spitfire too."

"Is this what she'd want?" Felicity questioned him. "She tried to help the people of the Glades, and now you're trying to kill them all in her name!"

"Rebecca wanted to _live_!" He yelled, eyes going wild. "She wanted to watch our son grow up! She was worth more than every one of those useless wastes combined, and they _killed_ her!"

"Like you killed Robert and Sara and the half-dozen crewmembers on the Gambit," Felicity spat back bitterly. "I wanted to watch my son grow up as well, and you took that chance from me! I missed five years because you wanted to shut Robert up and decided to kill six innocents with him instead of hiring a fucking hitman like everybody else!"

Malcolm sighed. His mood swings were concerning, but a sign of his mental state. "I am truly sorry for what you went through," he said. To his credit, he did seem sincere, but Felicity sneered. He might feel sorry, but he sure as hell didn't regret it. "Not a day goes by that I don't miss Robert."

"Well don't worry," Felicity responded flatly. "You'll be dead soon enough and I doubt you'll be missing anybody then. I'd say you'll see him and Rebecca soon enough, but that's a lie, 'cause if anyone's going to rot in hell, it'll be you."

His gaze hardened, his eyes turning colder than the ice of Russia's winter. "You can't beat me, Felicity," he told her. "Yes, you're younger, and you're faster, frankly you're just plain better, with a broader range of skills, yet you always come up short against me. Do you want to know why?"

She stared back at him with pure loathing. Surely he believed it was because of some frivolous reason, like the fact that she's a woman, or something like that. That was always the reason they gave.

His eyes narrowed. "Because you don't know, in your heart, what you're fighting for; what you're willing to sacrifice," he said. "You're battling some other man's demons, pretending they are your own. I have no demons, Mrs. Queen. I know what I'm fighting for."

She lifted her chin defiantly, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction even if his words touched a nerve. After all, Felicity had never shied away from acknowledging to herself that she used the List and her quest to clean up Starling City as a way to avoid dealing with everything that happened during her five years of exile.

If she was chasing down drug dealers, she wasn't thinking of Conklin's abuse or Taiana's tearful pleas for Felicity to kill her and put an end to her pain. If she was hacking the account of some rich sleaze, she wasn't dreaming of Sara's scream as she was sucked out of the Amazo, or remembering Slade's eyes glinting with madness and rage as he advanced on her and she grabbed the arrow to drive it into his eye before he could kill her.

But she'd never considered the possibility that her repression made her weak. She had promised herself, after Fyers, not to be weak again. She had thrown herself into learning everything she could from Shado and Slade, and later from Maseo and Tatsu as well. She hadn't always won, but she'd never been weak. Not until she had come up against Malcolm for the first time and had been forced to crawl away.

She had been genuinely considering hanging up her bow last night. She had never wanted to be a warrior, life had made her into one. Was Malcolm right? Was she really unaware of what she was fighting for? It had always been survival, back on the island, so she could return to her baby boy. But now she was back, and she was reunited with her family, so why was she fighting?

Merlyn smirked, and she had the uneasy suspicion that, despite her blank expression, he knew her doubts. "Nobody can stop what's about to happen," he told her, throwing the broken remnants of the bow Talia had given her and her (thankfully undamaged) katana from Tatsu at the ground in front of her. "Not even the vigilante." Then he turned and left.

Felicity watched him go, jaw locked. Then she inverted her body with a grunt, climbing the chain all the way to the top. When she reached her goal, she paused for a second before letting go. The pressure sent her hurtling to the ground, the pipes breaking and unleashing a torrent of water with her.

By the time the guards came in, Felicity was armed with her chains (they were still wrapped around her wrists, and too bulky for her to use her katana), and she used them to take the two men out. A third took her by her surprise, but she was saved by a gunshot.

Dig and Oliver rounded the corner, Dig in the lead and both holding their guns.

"Thank God!" Oliver exclaimed when he saw her. He rushed over to hug her, ignoring that she was soaked and trying to both embrace her and wrap his jacket around her at once.

"I take back every joke I ever made about you sticking a tracking device in your shoes and earrings," Dig added.

She gave a grim, tight smile, as she searched the dead guard for a key to her chains. "We need to hurry," she urged once she was released. "Merlyn will move soon. We don't have much time."

* * *

"I'm fine, Oliver," she huffed at her husband irritably as they arrived at the basement. "How far has the scanner gotten?"

"Thirty-seven percent," Oliver replied, reluctantly leaving the matter of her injuries be to focus on what really mattered. "But there are a few things that have been flagged, including —" he clicked a few windows and opened up a blueprint "the schematics for the earthquake machine."

"So we can shut it down," she murmured, dropping into her chair to study the blueprints through narrow eyes.

"That's assuming we find it in time," Diggle pointed out pessimistically, frowning and crossing his arms over his chest.

"We have to," she replied curtly. "In the meantime," she plucked up the phone she used to call Lance. "I'm going to call Lance and update him. SCPD needs to evacuate the Glades." Just in case. She remembered Hong Kong, the chaos and riots and death as Shrieve unleashed a special sort of hell in the form of the Alpha-Omega virus.

"I'm gonna call Tommy," Oliver declared. "Tell him to get Aly, her mom and the kids and go stay at a hotel or something. They're only ten minutes away from the Glades, and he and Aly both work there. They need to get away, just in case."

"Are you going to tell him about Malcolm?" Diggle asked seriously. Oliver's jaw tightened.

"Tommy's always had problems with his father," he said after a pause. "But I don't know if he'd believe this. I'll just convince him to go."

They nodded solemnly, and Felicity glanced at Dig. "You should tell Carly to take AJ and get out as well," she warned him. His expression darkened and he nodded curtly, and they all dispersed to make their separate calls.

_"What do you want?"_ Quentin barked at her after answering her. She ignored the sounds of the guys in the background, trying (and seemingly failing) to convince their respective conversation partners that they needed to get as far from the Glades as they could, ASAP.

"Detective, we have a major problem," Felicity replied gravely. "Malcolm Merlyn is the Dark Archer. He plans to level the Glades in order to get revenge for his wife's death."

_"Level the Glades?"_ Lance repeated in disbelief. _"You're kidding me."_

"Detective, you don't like me, you don't like my methods, fine," Felicity retorted. "But you know that I'm trying to protect the people of this city, same as you. If you didn't believe that, you wouldn't still have this phone. You wouldn't have given me the arrow last Christmas, or believed me when I warned you about the assassination attempt on Merlyn two months ago. Believe that I'm entirely serious about this. The Unidac Massacre was Merlyn. The scientists created the device he plans to use to destroy the Glades, and he killed them to tie up his loose ends. Malcolm Merlyn is mad, and dangerous, and if we don't act quickly, thousands of people will die. I know you don't want that. You're a good cop, and you actually want to help. It's why you're the only cop that I trust to any degree."

Lance was quiet for a moment. _"You're sure about this?"_

"Positive," Felicity answered without hesitation.

_"What do you need from me?"_

She bit back a relieved sigh, and ignored the stab of pleasure at knowing her surrogate father was starting to not utterly hate her alter ego. "I'm currently searching for the device, and I've located the schematics. Once I find it, it can be shut down. But the Glades need to be evacuated just in case, and Merlyn needs to be dealt with."

_"Alright,"_ Lance agreed. _"I'll do what I can."_

He hung up first this time, and Felicity turned to see the others were also finished with their conversations.

"How'd it go?" She asked.

"Carly's agreed to take AJ to visit her parents in Ivy Town," Dig said, his relief clear. "But I had to tell her that Lyla called me warning that ARGUS had been given a tip about a terrorist attack in Starling to convince her to go. She wants me to come with her, I said I'd come as soon as I could but I had to secure your family first."

Felicity nodded and glanced at Oliver, who looked stressed.

"Tommy wouldn't go," he admitted, his worry obvious. "He wouldn't even listen to me. He's with his dad. Malcolm apparently asked him to come for support after being attacked." He scowled bitterly, clenching his fists. "God, what are we gonna do?"

She stood and went over to cup his jaw in her calloused hands. "We're gonna stop Merlyn," she said simply.

Oliver was quiet for a moment, staring into her eyes, before clearing his throat and pulling away. "I need to go and talk to Mom again," he announced.

"Oliver-" Felicity began to protest.

"I have to, Lissy," he cut her off, looking at her pleadingly. "You heard her. She was doing this to protect our family, not because she believes in it. I have to talk to her."

"Alright," Felicity sighed. She hesitated then leaned up to kiss him chastely. "Hurry up," she urged him, pulling away before he could respond. "We don't know when he's activating the device, but it'll be soon. We don't have much time. Dig and I will work on narrowing down where he might have placed the machine."

He nodded and hurried off. Felicity watched him go before turning to Dig and heading over to her computers. "C'mon, Dig," she urged her partner briskly. "I bet that it's right in front of our eyes."

"We'll be kicking ourselves at how obvious it is," he agreed as he joined her in studying the information covering the screens, including a map of both the Starling City as a whole, the Glades, and the Underground, seeing as it was the symbol on the front of the notebook.

They spent some time shifting through the information before it suddenly struck her. "Dig," she breathed. "I got it!"

"Well?" He pressed eagerly.

She swung to face him, waving at the map of the subway line. "It's so obvious," she groaned. "If you wanted to destabilize a large area, where would you attack?"

His eyes widened as he realized what she was getting at. "Underground," he stated immediately. "It's somewhere on the subway line!"

* * *

His mother was in her bedroom when he arrived, and he paused for a moment to stare at her. How could she be so composed, knowing that thousands of innocent people were about to die, and she had played a part in murdering them? Who was this woman? He had always thought of his parents as good people, distant due to work maybe but good at heart. These past few months had ripped that belief away from him and crushed it, and he didn't know what to do.

Oliver took a deep breath and entered the room, Moira turning her attention to him when she heard his footsteps. "No more lies, Mom," he said. "The Undertaking. We need to stop it."

She raised her chin defiantly. "Everything I have ever said or done has been to protect our family," she insisted firmly.

"What about all those people in the Glades?" He argued.

She turned away. "I'm not their mother," she shrugged, but her body language was too tense for him to think that she was as indifferent as she was trying to act.

"Felicity told me the truth about the wreck," Oliver revealed. Moira turned to frown at him in confusion. "How Dad really died."

"Malcolm had a bomb placed on the yacht," Moira said, voice strained. "That's what happened. He killed your father for trying to defy him, and he will have no qualms killing the rest of us as well if we provoke him."

"That's not what happened," Oliver corrected her quietly, the memory of Felicity's admission paining him. "Felicity lied, to protect us from the truth. After the Gambit went down, Dad and she both made it to the life raft. And then they drifted, for days. In the end, there wasn't enough food and water for both of them, and Felicity was hurt." Oliver sighed and looked down at the ground, forcing the rest of the tale out. "So he shot himself in the head."

His mother whimpered and stepped away, hugging herself. "I don't want to hear this," she whispered hoarsely.

"Dad sacrificed himself so that my wife could live," Oliver forced himself to press onward despite the guilt and pain he felt. "Do you really think that he would have wanted this? Mom. _Please._ You have to help me stop Malcolm. We need to know where the device is."

She stared at him, pale and pained, but before she could answer her phone rang. Her hands shook as she answered. "Malcolm," she stated, their eyes meeting briefly as she spoke. "How can I help you? I see. Yes, thank you for calling." She set down the phone, seeming drained and leaning slightly on the dresser for support.

"What is it?" Oliver demanded anxiously. "What did he want?"

"Malcolm's accelerated his timetable," she said softly. "The Undertaking is... It's happening tonight." Oliver hurried for the door. "Where you going?" She called after him.

"Somebody in this family needs to put an end to this," he responded. "Whatever the cost."

* * *

"We gotta go scour that line," Dig insisted.

"There's no time," Oliver interrupted, a harried look about him as he entered the base. "I just spoke to Mom. Merlyn's moving up his timetable. The Undertaking is tonight."

"Fuck," Felicity bit out. She gestured at the subway map, showing it to him. "We figured out that Merlyn placed the device somewhere along the subway line," she explained hurriedly. "This is a US geological survey showing a fault that runs right under the Glades. Somewhere along the 10th Street line we think. That's the place where it can make the most impact."

Oliver stared at him gravely. "I know where it is," he declared, but his phone rang before he could expand on his statement. "Thea, now's not a good time," he greeted his younger sister tensely. He jerked at her response. "Which channel?" He turned to them. "Turn on the news," he requested hastily, looking strained. Felicity complied immediately, switching on Channel 10.

It showed her mother-in-law, dressed to the nines and composed as ever. _"My name is Moira Dearden Queen,"_ she announced, as if there was anybody in Starling who wouldn't be able to recognize her. _"I am the Acting CEO of Queen Consolidated. And God forgive me… I have failed this city."_

Oliver sighed and bowed his head as Felicity's words from so many months of her crusade floated across the room. The blonde woman stood and went over to him, gripping his arm in support. He held onto her like a lifeline.

" _For the past five years, under the threat for the lives of my family and myself, I have been complicit in an undertaking with one horrible purpose: to destroy the Glades and everyone in it,"_ Moira confessed, her announcement causing the crowd at the press conference starts to buzz with interest and alarm as Oliver turned his head away from the TV screen. Felicity and Diggle continued to watch, transfixed with horror.

" _I realize now that my family's safety will mean nothing if I allow this dreadful act occur. But you all must know that the architect of this nightmare is Malcolm Merlyn. I have proof that he has killed dozens in pursuit of this madness — Adam Hunt, Frank Chen, and my first husband, Robert Queen."_ Felicity glanced up at Oliver, who was still shaking his head, refusing to watch.

" _Please,"_ Moira pled. _"If you reside in the Glades, you_ _ **need**_ _to get out now. Your lives and the lives of your children depend on it._ _ **Please.**_ _"_

The conference changed to the local in-studio anchor, and Felicity muted the TV, turning to Oliver.

"She'll be arrested any second now," Oliver said despairingly.

"But she's given people a chance," Felicity pointed out, not saying that Moira's announcement, however well-intentioned, could cause more trouble than it was worth. People would riot, rushing to flee the Glades as fast as they could, attacking anybody who got in their way and preventing the SCPD from organizing a proper evacuation.

"Yeah," Oliver muttered. He shook his head. "We need to act fast," he declared. "Merlyn could activate the device at any moment now that he's been revealed."

Felicity nodded, heading over to her truck and rooting around in it to find Shado's old bow.

"I thought Merlyn broke your bow," Diggle commented.

She shrugged. "I have a spare," she said vaguely. This one she rarely used, wanting to avoid it suffering the same fate as the one Talia had gifted her with. "Now," she said briskly. "According to the schematics, the device can be detonated on a timer, or remote detonated, meaning Merlyn would have some sort of switch on him."

"If we can get our hands on that detonator, maybe we won't have to find the device," Dig suggested hopefully, but Felicity shook her head in disagreement.

"That's too big of an if," she said. "I need you in the subway," she told her partner, the man she trusted with her life in a way she didn't even trust Oliver. "Find the device and disarm it, just in case."

"So you can take on Merlyn yourself?" Diggle asked her incredulously. "No way in hell." Oliver nodded in agreement with him, jaw locked tightly.

"I have to," she insisted. "There's no other option."

"He'll kill you, Felicity," Dig pointed out grimly. Oliver flinched at that.

She inhaled deeply, shoulders slumping. "I know," she confessed. "He's beaten me twice, and I don't know how to stop him."

"Okay, well how about this time you bring along something you didn't have the last time you fought?" Dig suggested.

She stared at him in confusion, glancing over at her rack of weapons to try and figure out what he meant. Did he think she should bring a bomb, maybe?

He gave a wry smile at her blatant confusion. "Me."

"I can't let you do that," she stated without hesitation. "It's too dangerous." They all knew that Felicity's skills far outstripped Dig's, and if Malcolm was able to defeat her so easily, then he could definitely take out Diggle.

"And I can't let you do this by yourself," he responded flatly, stepping toward her. "Felicity, you are not alone, not since you brought me into this." He glanced back at Oliver, who gave a nod of agreement, still strained by the press conference. "Us into this," Dig corrected himself. "Besides, Army regulations," Diggle went on. "A soldier never lets a brother go into battle alone. Or a sister."

She stared at his outstretched hand for a moment before reaching out to clasp it firmly, giving him a soft smile.

"Best decision I made with this whole mission was agreeing for you to join me," she remarked softly, earning a smile, before Oliver spoke up.

"I guess that leaves me to deactivate the device. I suppose that I'll need to audit a quick course in…dismantling seismic devices…" he said tensely, gesturing at the computers.

"It's all in the schematics, but I don't want you down there," Felicity stated firmly, thoughts going to her baby boy. If worst came to worst, she didn't want him to be orphaned. He had lost her once and grown up well despite it. She didn't want to take the risk of what would happen if he were to lose her a second time and his father on top of that.

"If I don't do it, who will?" Oliver pointed out, frowning at her, though his eyes flicked to the photograph of William on the computer desk, and she knew he understood her worries. The base was on the edge of the Glades, and the walls were heavily reinforced. Truth be told, he'd probably be safer here than anywhere else in the city.

She went over and grabbed her burner phone, dialling Lance's number quickly. His answer was as gruff as usual.

"I need one more thing from you," she informed him.

" _Yeah, what do I have left to give?"_ he scoffed back at her.

"I know where Merlyn is keeping the device," she stated, glancing at Oliver for the location, and he was quick to supply the location. "It's at the abandoned subway station in Pap Street," she repeated to the detective.

" _How can you be sure?"_ he asked, though the urgency in his voice said that he was willing to believe and help her, which was the important thing.

She had never known before where exactly Rebecca Merlyn died, but it made sense in that moment, especially when she took in the sight of Oliver's pained expression. "It's where his wife was murdered," she said softly. "I need someone I can trust to deactivate the device, and thanks to a… mutual friend… I know how to do it."

_"Somebody I know,"_ Lance stated. _"They told me that this city needs you."_

"Right now, Detective, this city needs you," she replied bluntly, finishing up the conversation and giving her husband the cell phone. "He'll call back when he's found the device. You can do this, Oliver, it's all on the schematics," she assured him. He nodded in reply before sitting in her chair to begin studying the disarming instructions.

While he did so, Felicity hastened to change into her vigilante gear as Diggle holstered his gun and grabbed a couple of extra magazines. Once she was dressed, she emerged from behind the metal partition, pulling on her gloves as Oliver swivelled to face her.

He reached out to grasp her hand, rubbing his thumb over it. "Come back alive, okay?" He urged her. "Will and I-we can't lose you again."

She couldn't make such a promise, so she kissed him instead. "I love you," she breathed. "I will always, always fight to come back to you both."

He nodded, eyes pained, and repeated the sentiment back to her. "I love you too, Babe."

Dig returned to their side then, shrugging on his jacket. "You ready?" He asked her briskly, 'soldier mode' fully switched on for him. She cast Oliver one last look then turned back to him, giving a brisk nod.

"Yeah, I'm ready," she confirmed, shoving away all her emotions to focus on the mission. "Let's move."

* * *

_**Lian Yu: 2007** _

_Slade laughed loudly when the two of them reunited after Felicity managed to hack the missile and use it to destroy the mercenaries' camp instead of the plane. Adrenaline and the rush of it all made Felicity feel wild as she hugged him tightly, relieved to see he was alright save for the bullet wound Fyers had given him earlier in the tent._

_"I should'a known you'd make a mess of saving the day!" He chortled._

_She slapped his shoulder, sparkling with relief. The implications of what she'd done would no doubt hit her later, but she'd deal with the fact that she'd just blown up a camp of over a hundred men, terrorists or not, then. Right now she wanted to simply revel in the knowledge that she'd saved the 310 people abroad the plane, not to mention all the other planes Fyers would've attacked, and the fact that she and her friends were still alive._

_But that thought made her freeze as she realized suddenly who was missing. She looked urgently at Slade, who tensed at the look on her face._

_"Where's Shado?" She demanded frantically. He paled, scanning their surroundings in search of the Chinese woman, as if she'd randomly pop up._

_"I thought she was with you!" He exclaimed._

_"We were separated while hacking the missile," she explained, recalling what had happened. 'Get me to the launchpad and I can stop it!' She had cried to them. Slade had provided cover fire for her and Shado to reach their target, and Shado had taken on the guards there. The other woman had toppled off the pad while wrestling with a guard, and that was the last Felicity had seen of her._

_She felt sick, all happiness and relief at their success disappearing in a flash._

_"Here she is!" Fyers suddenly piped up. They spun, Felicity's heart stopping in fear as she saw the ruthless terrorist leader pressing a gun to Shado's head, the older woman's hands tightly bound and her hair gripped in Fyer's fist. To her credit, Shado just seemed angry, not frightened or worried. They both aimed their weapons at him, Slade wielding a machine gun and Felicity pulling an arrow back to her cheek in the stance the Gulongs had taught her._

_"Let her go!" Slade snarled, eyes flashing in rage._

_"It's over Fyers," Felicity added. "You lost! Accept it!"_

_He glowered at her. "A two-year operation," he said bitterly. "Ruined by one teen mom washing up on the island! And now here you are, a killer," he smirked and chuckled darkly as Felicity stiffened, his words hitting their mark. She'd never wanted to be a killer, yet here she was._

_"You have wanted nothing more than to return home, to your precious husband and son," Fyers went on, speaking to Felicity and ignoring Slade and Shado. "Now is your chance! I can get a helicopter here within days, get both of us back to the mainland. Think about it! You can go home! Are you really willing to sacrifice that chance for her?"_

_Felicity met Shado's eyes. They were steady and calm, bereft of any doubt in Felicity's choice as she lifted her chin in a fraction of a nod. She thought of Oliver and William, how desperately she longed to get back home to them._

_Then she made her choice._

_"Yes," Felicity replied simply. And she fired the arrow right through his neck. Edward Fyers was the first person she ever killed with her favoured weapon of choice, and it felt as natural as breathing._

_That scared her more than any enemy ever managed to._

* * *

When they arrived at Merlyn Global, they found an entire SWAT team dead on the floor of Merlyn's office. They pointed their weapons every which way, but couldn't see any sign of life.

Until Felicity's sensitive hearing picked up on a soft cough in the corner of the room. Felicity darted over, heart pounding when she recognized the figure.

"Tommy!" She exclaimed, not even realizing that she wasn't using her voice modulator.

He twisted his head to peer at her, eyes widening in surprise. "Felicity?" He mumbled. "But-actually, so much makes sense now. Does Ollie know?"

She nodded. His expression was unreadable.

"My dad-" he muttered. "Are you going to kill him?"

"I have no choice," she said gently.

He gave an uncharacteristically bitter smile, more a twist of the lips than anything else. "There's always another choice," he corrected her. "But letting him survive would be the wrong one. He took out those SWAT guys like they were nothing. I tried to stop him, but I couldn't. Stop him, Lissy. He needs to be stopped."

She nodded, tears pricking her eyes at the pained look in his eyes.

"Go," she urged him. "Get to Aly and the kids."

"Yeah," he muttered, accepting her help in staggering to the feet and heading for the exit. "He went that way," he warned them, waving towards the stairs that had been hidden behind a fake panel.

She nodded and re-joined Dig, pushing away thoughts of Tommy to focus on the other, psychotic Merlyn.

They arrived at what seemed to be a lair. It was similar to the setup Felicity had in her own base, except smaller and with a sinister fan sending shadows across the room. Just in front of the fan was Malcolm Merlyn, dressed in his Dark Archer garb, sans mask, and staring at them coldly.

"Welcome," he greeted them coldly. "I've been waiting for you. I wanted to see you watch your city die."

"Where's the transmitter?" Felicity demanded as Diggle flanked her, gun still drawn and aimed steadily at Merlyn's head. They'd have to go for the head when shooting, his armour covered everywhere else and was too thick for either Dig's bullets or her arrows to pierce.

"Somewhere I can easily get to it," Merlyn sneered back.

"I doubt it," Dig answered dangerously. "You'll be too busy being dead to press any buttons."

Merlyn took Dig's words as the threat that they were and sprung into action. Felicity fired an arrow at him as Diggle shot seven bullets in quick succession, but Malcolm ducked into an adjoining room unscathed. Dig was first to get into the room but was quickly disarmed as Merlyn employed lightning-fast martial arts to take him down and break his leg, sending him crashing to the ground, swearing. Felicity fought Merlyn as hard as she had ever fought anybody else while Diggle hobbled back to his feet, and she sent her opponent running around the table just as he tossed a small blade into Dig's chest.

"Digg!" she cried, momentarily distracted as he fell to the ground again, groaning and grasping at the knife in his chest. She crouched beside him, but he gestured after Merlyn, who had disappeared through yet another panel. How in God's name did he have so many fucking secret rooms? Why had nobody picked up on them? Or maybe they had, and he'd simply dealt with it the way he dealt with most of his problems.

"Stairs, Felicity, go!" Dig barked at her. Despite her worry for him, he seemed as good as could be hoped for, and she knew how to prioritize. She rushed after Merlyn and emerged on the roof, deftly avoiding an arrow sent by Merlyn as soon as she opened the door.

"Tell me," he asked in a menacing voice, having put on his own mask. "Are you ready to die?"

They fired arrows at each other, but they were both too good at avoiding them, so they ended up rushing at each other and collided in a brutal hand-to-hand fight that included their respective swords and bows both. She managed to kick Merlyn's face, sending him spinning around and allowing her to fire an arrow right at his face, but he caught it in mid-air again. She had to imagine his gleam of triumph, since his face was covered, but the arrow exploded a second later, sending him flying five feet into the air.

He recovers from it quickly enough, engaging her again, and this time the fight lasted longer, each of them getting winded with each kick and punch that landed. This time, Felicity didn't feel quite so outmatched. She'd always been at her best when desperate. But in spite of that, eventually she still ended up with Merlyn's arm around her neck.

She fumbled to reach whatever she can get her hands onto, and she ended up pulling off his mask as she lost air. Through her darkening vision, she spied Diggle dragging himself onto the roof on his elbows, apparently unable to use his leg. Her heart panged at the sight.

"Don't struggle," Merlyn advised her. "It's over." She sunk to her knees as the black spots began to overtake her vision entirely. "There was never any doubt of the outcome," Merlyn growled, tightening his hold, but Felicity didn't pay him any mind, her eyes fixed on Diggle.

_You can stare down death with something to live for or not. Something to live for is better._

"Don't worry," Merlyn continued with his typical psychopathic victory monologue, his voice fading as she continued to lose air. "Your dear husband and son will join you in death soon enough."

_Come back to us, Will and I can't lose you again._

_Mommy, I love you._

Her eyes fell to the ground as she thought of her husband and son, the family she had failed when Merlyn beat her. But that was when she saw one of Merlyn's arrows on the ground just in front of her, well within her reach.

_Shengcun. Survive._

She groped for the arrow, barely able to see now, but she felt triumph begin to spark in her breast when her gloved hand wrapped around the shaft. Using every last bit of strength and determination in her body, she aimed just under her first rib and stabbed as deep as she could. She heard Merlyn grunt and jerk violently behind her, and suddenly she had the ability to breathe again as his arm fell away from her neck.

She broke off the fletching and let Merlyn collapse behind her, his collapse pulling the arrow out of her body as he fell backwards.

"Thank you," she croaked out, still struggling to regain her breath, "For teaching me what I'm fighting for."

Merlyn was coughing and choking on his own blood — she must have punctured one of his lungs — as he stared up at her. "I did it… for this city," he gasps, and then the light left his eyes. But just in case, because Kovar and Deadshot had taught her to always be thorough, she grasped her sword and raised it above her head, swinging it downwards and decapitating him in a swift motion.

She knelt over him, still gasping for breath as she realized that her face was streaked with tears. Dimly, she heard Diggle dragging himself over, and she turned to smile weakly at him, crawling over the rest of the way to join him.

"Oliver just called, said Lance disarmed it," he informed her. He wasn't even bothering to try to use his right leg, using only his right arm and his left leg to move across the gravel as his left hand clutched his knife wound.

"It's over," she breathed, feeling giddy with relief and exhaustion as her adrenaline began to crash.

"He's definitely dead," Diggle reported, glancing at Merlyn's stabbed and decapitated corpse. "You killed him. You won."

" _We_ won," Felicity corrected him. "I'd never have managed it without you and Oliver."

Diggle had only just begun to smile broadly at her when they felt the building rock beneath them. She tumbled over and landed hard on her injured side, as Diggle splayed out his fingers on the gravel to try and stay upright. "No!" he yelled, peering westward to the Glades.

The building shook again, and Felicity rushed to Diggle's side, moving under his arm to help him up as they walked to the ledge and watch as explosions erupt all around the Glades, buildings collapsing all over again and fires erupts. Even from the roof of Merlyn Global, you could hear the screams of fear and desperation.

It was Hong Kong all over again, but worse because Starling City was her home.

"There was a second device," she stated faintly, feeling dizzy with horror as she stared the scene. It was something out of a horror movie.

"Oh God," Dig breathed, staring in horror.

Felicity swallowed a sob as she groped for her communication device. "Oliver," she said in a choked voice. "Oliver, it's me. It's over. We're okay."

_"Lis?"_ He replied. There was a sound in his voice that she didn't recognize and it terrified her even more than the sight of the Glades collapsing in on themselves. His voice was slurred.

"Are you hurt?" She asked him desperately.

_"Under the desk,"_ he mumbled vaguely. _"There's-my leg's stuck. Your computer's are ruined."_

"As long as you're okay, I don't care," she replied fiercely. Oliver mumbled incomprehensibly, and then she couldn't get another reply out of him, despite her pleas. "Oliver, answer me! Oliver, please!"

Dig looked at her, expression grim. "Felicity," he said softly. She heard his tone, and she knew what he was thinking. They stood atop Merlyn Global and watched the Glades burn, helpless to do anything and wondering how many of their friends and loved ones had been caught in the crossfire.

She would never forgive herself for her failure.


	21. Forgive and Go Forward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver and Felicity finally talk about what went wrong between them

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow. I'm glad that everybody is pleased with my Undertaking! No return of Malcolm in** _**this** _ **'verse. (I really hated how they kept bringing him back and having him as an ally or enemy depending. Overuse of a plot annoys me. So he is dead and staying dead in this. Meaning, of course, that Sara wouldn't die in S3 and Thea wouldn't go through so much hell. I'm not going as far as S3, but it's good to know, you know?)**

**Read, enjoy and review!**

_It is not "forgive and forget" as if nothing wrong had ever happened, but "forgive and go forward," building on the mistakes of the past and the energy generated by reconciliation to create a new future._

_**Alan Paton** _

**Chapter Twenty-One**

**Forgive and Go Forward**

The first sight to meet Oliver's eyes on waking was Felicity, slumped in an armchair beside his bed, her laptop perched on the duvet, the lack of glow signalling it had gone into sleep mode after a while of inactivity. She must have fallen asleep in the middle of working. How often had he caught her in a similar position when they were in college? He looked around, studying his surroundings. He was at home in the manor, in his bedroom, with several medical machines set up around his bed. When he turned his attention to her, he realized that Felicity was far paler than usual for her nowadays, with dark circles under her eyes and her clothes rumpled from being worn for too long.

"F'l'ity," he croaked, his voice hoarse and barely audible. She jolted awake immediately, tensing and scanning the room for threats before relaxing again and giving him a weak smile, moving to sit beside him on the bed.

"Hey, Babe," she murmured, running a hand over his hair. "Welcome back to the world. How are you feeling?"

"My head hurts," he replied tiredly. "I don't-did the machine go off?"

Her blue eyes glistened with tears, and now she was closer he could see the red tints to her eyes that showed it wasn't the first time she had been tearful recently.

"Um, you and Lance managed to disarm one of them," she explained. "But, uh, it turned out that Merlyn had a second device. It went off. The, the earthquake destabilized some stuff in SCT, and you ended up with some debris falling on top of your head and your leg was pinned as well. You've been unconscious for a week now, though the last few days was just because of sedation. Tommy took you off it yesterday evening and said to let you wake up on your own."

Oliver gave a slow nod, absorbing everything she had told him, though the fogginess of his mind made it difficult to comprehend the impact of what she was telling him. "My mom?" He questioned her, the thought popping into his mind. He struggled to push himself up, ignoring the agony in his head and leg. "Thea? Jesus, _Will_? Is he alright?"

"Hey, hey," she pushed him back down gently. "They're all fine. Thea was with Roy in the Glades when, when the whole thing happened, but she wasn't hurt, and he's okay too, just some bumps and bruises mostly. A broken arm is the worst of it. William is completely fine. He was here in the manor with Raisa, outside of the danger zone. Your mom isn't hurt either."

"She was arrested, wasn't she?" Oliver asked quietly.

Felicity bit her lip guiltily and avoided his gaze. "I'm sorry, Oliver," she breathed. "Yeah. But Jean Loring is already working on her defence. She says that the fact that Moira was trying to protect her family and that she admitted what she knew before it could start and provided evidence of Malcolm's actions will work in her favour."

"Right," Oliver said hollowly. "How's Dig? And you, you're alright, aren't you?" He scanned her as best he could, searching for any signs of injury. Felicity gave a tired smile, running a hand through her golden locks.

"Dig and I were both stabbed during the fight with Malcolm," she confessed. The heart monitor picked up as he panicked over her revelation, but she was quick to soothe him.

"Hey, hey, look at me, Honey," she demanded, grasping his jaw in her calloused hands and forcing him to meet her gaze. "We're okay. Dig is laid up with a broken leg, but neither of us are really hurt. We're okay. I promise."

"I can't lose you again, Lissy," he insisted in a shaky voice. "I just can't."

She nodded, sighing and leaning down to kiss him. "You're not going to," she murmured before pulling away and rising. "I'm going to go and call Tommy, alright? He and Aly are run off their feet with everything, but he's been stopping by to check on you every night and I'm under strict instructions to inform him of any and all developments."

"Okay," Oliver agreed. It was only a few moments after she left that he fell asleep again. It wasn't until he woke up again that he realized he had never asked about the death toll. When he learned it was still rising even a week later as people succumbed to injuries and bodies were uncovered, but at last count approximately 253 people were dead. He threw up from the horror of it, guilt and grief making him feel sick.

* * *

With everything going on, looking after William and Thea who were both distraught and confused by recent events, making large donations to the Glades to help with everything, rebuilding, housing, medical supplies and attention, as well as assuring the people that the Queen family as a whole fully intended to make restitutions for their actions, checking up on Dig (thank God Carly was there to look after him, because Felicity simply couldn't manage more, awful as she felt about it), and trying to keep Queen Consolidated from falling apart, especially now that some corporation called Stellmoor International was gearing for it, Felicity had little opportunity to even consider putting the mask back on in the first two months after the Undertaking. She wasn't sure she even wanted to.

She had wanted to help, but what good had she done in reality? She had failed to stop the Undertaking, and now five hundred and two people were dead, thousands more injured and homeless. She had gone through records, looking through each of the dead's profiles and imprinting their names and faces into her memory. Perhaps if she hadn't focused on going after Malcolm, if she had chosen to search for the device instead, she would have realized there was more than one and been able to stop the tragedy from unfolding.

It seemed that every time she tried to help, she only made things worse. And she was so _tired_ too. So very tired of death and pain and, god, _so much_ blood. Ever since the wreck, her life had been a blur of blood, death and a feeling of hollow grief, and Felicity felt on the edge, as if one more move would destroy whatever remained of her tattered soul.

The thought of fighting more seemed impossible and foolish to her. Instead, she threw herself into helping as best she could, and also put the household on a firm budget. Most of the Queens' assets were frozen for the course of the investigation into Moira, leaving them with only the trust funds, the personal accounts belonging to Oliver, Felicity and Thea (and also Felicity's offshore accounts, but the last thing they needed right now was for anybody to become suspicious of those). While money from the company, SCT and the club all continued to go into the personal accounts, it still meant that they were no longer able to live as lavishly as possible, and in anticipation of heavy fines being levelled on Moira, Felicity took over the household finances and put a cap on the amount each person was allowed to spend, as well as renting out several unused properties to gain more income. Thea had been more than a little pouty when her ability to go for retail therapy was firmly restricted, but Felicity had refused to yield, and Tommy asking her to help out at Verdant, given that he was too busy at the hospital and Oliver was still recovering from his broken leg, had distracted her.

Felicity sighed and rubbed at her temples, pressing on the pressure points to try and lessen her pounding headache. She was so tired, and the rare moments of sleep she managed to snatch were filled with images of the Undertaking and Hong Kong, William taking Akio's place and her replacing Tatsu, screaming helplessly as her baby choked to death on his own blood. It wasn't really a surprise that the Undertaking had brought memories of the Alpha-Omega Virus to the front of her mind, but she was still bitter over it. She had gone to a lot of work to lock up those memories nice and tight in a box at the back of her mind, and the Undertaking had made it burst wide open and flood her dreams with old and new horrors.

Yet another thing to hate Malcolm Merlyn for.

She had rushed Dig to the hospital on her bike, dropping him at the entrance and then dashing to the club where she had managed to dig Oliver out without too much difficulty. The damage to her building hadn't been too bad, not nearly as bad as other places, but the second device had been near enough to do some damage to it, and Oliver had been in a bad position, ending up with his leg pinned under some debris and a chunk of stone hitting his head. He'd had a brain bleed, and there had been concerns over brain damage which had thankfully been disproved after he woke.

And he would live as well, which was more than many could say. Felicity had taken him to the hospital, still in the clothes she wore under her coat and bleeding from the arrow she had jammed in her chest to kill Merlyn, and Aly had fixed her up hastily while Tommy, a bandage around his head, worked on Oliver. She had been discharged immediately, but Oliver had required admission due to his head wound. Tommy wouldn't allow anybody else to treat his best friend, and Felicity had needed to have one of their home security guards posted outside his room 24/7 until her husband had been sent home. After leaving the hospital, she had gone back to the Glades and started working on Search and Rescue as the vigilante. It spoke to the seriousness of the situation that none of the police had tried to arrest her, instead working in concert with her and letting her take the lead when it became clear she had the experience to do so. She had worked until she was near collapse, at which time Lance had ordered her to go.

"Get outta here, kid," he had urged her. "You've done all you can. You keep working in this state and you'll be a hindrance, not a help." He was right, so she had gone home where she had found her cell phone's memory full from the amount of missed calls and texts, Thea distraught and terrified, and William innocently asking what was going on. She'd had to break the news that Oliver was in hospital to them, and spent the next few hours trying to soothe Will's tears of fear and Thea's rage towards her mother.

The day after the Undertaking, Felicity, as Felicity Queen, had gone back to the Glades again and started helping to get people out of destroyed buildings, nursing their wounds and soothing their tears and enduring angry threats and yells from people. Her dad had wanted her to go, due to the threats being levelled at her, but she had steadfastly held her ground and continued to do what she could. Eventually, though, she had gone to visit Dig, who had been discharged, before going to the hospital to see Oliver and cry into his bedsheets. She'd passed by Tommy, but hadn't been able to talk to him, as he and Aly were both too busy to even stop and drink a cup of coffee, instead drinking it on the go.

She didn't know what she would even say, really. She and Tommy had spoken about anything other than Oliver's case since he had learned she was the vigilante. He hadn't revealed her to anybody, and she'd like to take that as a good sign, but he might just not have had the time.

Two months after the Undertaking, the total of dead was tallied at 502, and both William and Thea had needed to be withdrawn from school because both were receiving threats. It was the same reason that Oliver had been transferred home even before waking. They couldn't guarantee nobody would attack him, and even some of their security detail's loyalty was now questionable. Thankfully, Dig was mostly back to normal, though he was doing PT for his leg, and he had retaken his position as head of security for their family, something that greatly reassured her. She could trust Dig to make sure none of their employees tried to kill them in their own home.

She passed by William's room, and quickly peeked inside, seeing him contentedly playing Mario Kart on his PlayStation. It made her smile softly. She couldn't shield him entirely from what was going on, but at least he was hanging on. Her kid was one tough boy.

Roy was staying with them for the moment, as his house had been destroyed in the quake, and she could hear he and Thea talking in her room, so she didn't knock, not wanting to disturb the pair. Thea was suffering a lot lately, given what she had seen in the quake and the knowledge that her mother had taken part in that, while Roy was coping with the loss of eight of his friends and the same trauma as everyone else who'd been in the Glades during the Undertaking. The one small silver lining was that it had bonded them closer instead of pushing them apart.

She trotted past two of the guest rooms, chewing the inside of her cheek. She had considered opening some of the house to the new homeless, but she'd discussed it with Dig first, and he had advised her against it, given the angry sentiment directed towards the Queens and Merlyns at the moment. Tommy had actually sped up his marriage to Aly, saying vows to her in the hospital chapel while dressed in scrubs and on a coffee break, then promptly taken her name. Even William had been harassed, leading to her decision to take him out of school several weeks early. People couldn't get to Moira, and Malcolm was definitely dead (Tommy had refused to even have a funeral, the body simply being placed in a plain casket and buried in a tiny plot, not even in a graveyard and sans a headstone.) so people's ire was being taken out on their children. Felicity was pretty sure that if it wasn't for the fact that all hands were needed on deck at the two hospitals of Starling City, Tommy would've been fired. Inviting those angry people into the Queen estate was just asking for trouble. Instead, Tommy'd opened Merlyn Mansion to the public, and it was being used for housing and as a soup kitchen.

No matter what they did, however, the citizens of Starling were still brimming with rage towards them, and Felicity could hardly blame them for it. The wounds were all still so very fresh, and Felicity deserved a lot of the blame.

She should have realized. What was the point of having an IQ of 173 if all you ever did was fail with you most needed to succeed?

"Lis?" She was broken from her brooding by her husband's voice, realizing that she had entered his room to check on him without noticing her own actions.

"Honey, you okay?" He asked her, full of concern as he looked at her. She exhaled heavily and opened her mouth, shutting it a second later before opening it again.

"I think it's time for that talk, don't you?" She said softly. "We've been putting it off for so long and-we need to talk about this. There's never going to be a perfect moment. We might as well do it when we're both awake and have nothing to do for once."

He took a deep breath and nodded, leveraging himself into a sitting position. "Yeah, I agree," he murmured. He gestured to the chair beside his bed, and Felicity snapped the door shut quietly before sitting down.

"Do you want to start or will I?" He asked.

She gave a shadow of smile as she responded. "Ladies first, right?"

His own smile barely curved up the edges of his lips as he nodded.

She inhaled and exhaled, trying to put herself into that relaxed, meditative space that Shado and Tatsu had taught her to reach. It was a lot harder without her bow in hand or a candle flame flickering before her eyes.

"I think our problems go back farther than just the island, Oliver," she admitted. He knit his brow, waiting for her to expand. "Laurel," she stated simply with a shrug.

"What about Laurel?" He wondered. "I mean, what about Laurel before the island? You know I've never had eyes for anyone else since we met."

"That's the thing, Oliver," she argued. "I _don't_ know that. The whole of our marriage, whenever we argued, the first thing you'd do was storm out and go to her. And no, I don't believe you ever cheated on me with her, but can't you see it from my point of view? The husband I loved, but that I never felt I was good enough for, went to his ex-girlfriend, who made no secret of the fact that she wanted to get back together with him, whenever we had an argument?" Oliver looked stricken, but she forced herself to go on, wanting to get the whole thing out quickly.

"It hurt whenever you did that sort of thing, Oliver," she confessed. "So many people thought I was just some gold-digging whore, that I deliberately got pregnant to trap you into marrying me, and that Laurel was your 'One True Love'. They were convinced that you'd go back to her eventually. And every time you went to her while upset with me, it made me wonder if they right, at least partially, in that you only married me because of Will, and you really wanted to be with her. And it wasn't just that.

I get that you've known Laurel since childhood, but it was so _hard_ , Oliver, when she'd bump into us, and talk to me so condescendingly and passive-aggressively, and you wouldn't defend me, or you'd make me feel like I was overreacting by being upset. Maybe sometimes I was, but you never did a lot to make me feel secure in our relationship, and it was so _hard_ , Oliver. I loved you, I _love_ you so much, but I've never felt good enough for you, and she was Gorgeous Laurel, clever and beautiful and with so much history with you, and damn it, I had good reason to feel insecure.

I wanted you to reassure me that it really was me you wanted, but you never seemed to get that. I mean, remember that time we bumped into her in the café, just before the Gambit? She was flirting with you right in front of me, and you didn't tell her to shove off, and that hurt Oliver. It really did."

She finished her rant and looked at her hands.

A second later, she felt him pull her into his arms, cradling her and kissing the side of her head, nearly her ear.

"God, Felicity," he said, voice chock full of guilt. "God, I'm so sorry, Baby. I never meant-I didn't realize how much this affected you. I'm a self-centred idiot, but God, Lissy. I never thought I needed to assure you how much I love you, because I've been in love with you since I first laid eyes on you. Remember that day?"

"Yeah," Felicity smiled genuinely that time. "I was working at a tech repair store in Boston, and you brought in your laptop to be fixed. You'd downloaded a virus on it watching porn, but you didn't want anyone to know because your parents would've flipped, so you dumped your latte over the keyboard. You wanted to get your stuff off it and buy a new one, but you had no clue about tech stuff, so you asked me for a recommendation."

"You were chewing on a red pen when I came in," Oliver recalled, smiling softly and a distant expression on his face. "Wearing a short black skirt and a pink shirt with the store's name on it. And you started babbling so adorably when I introduced myself, but you didn't take any of my shit. I loved you straight away, just because you were the first person I ever met who actually called me on my bullshit. And when you were disappointed with me, I never felt as if you were upset because I wasn't the person that you _wanted_ me to be, like I felt with my parents and Laurel, but because you really _believed_ that I was better than that. I wanted to live up to that. I wanted to be a better man. To be good enough for you. You say you didn't think you were good enough for me? It's _always_ been the other way around.

You're a genius and beautiful and you can wrap pretty much anybody around your little finger. I never really put any thought into those people saying Laurel was the right one for me, because it was just so damn obvious to me that you were the one who was really the one I was meant to be with. You're meant to be with someone who brings out the best in you, right? That's always been you, Felicity. _Always_.

As for me going to Laurel when we had an argument. I have no excuse. I was, probably still am, a selfish asshole. I'd feel awful, and she always stoked my ego, made me feel better. Same with the flirting. I liked knowing women wanted me, even after I got married and had a kid. The only thing I can say is that I never, _ever_ wanted to hurt you. If I'd realized that I was upsetting you, I'd have stopped straight away, I swear."

"I never really told you," Felicity acknowledged. "Not until..." She drifted off, but they both knew what she was referencing. "And by then it was too late," she finished. They were silent for several long moments, thinking over their discussion.

"Anyway," she said, trying to lighten the mood a bit. "What I'm hearing is we need to work on communicating with each other." He grinned slightly, though his eyes stayed solemn.

"Sounds about right, yeah," he agreed.

She took a deep breath and went on. "When I came back, I knew you'd probably have moved on," she admitted. "But it still hurt. Especially because of course you were with Gorgeous Laurel again. And that photo of the two of you at my funeral-"

"I told you, Lissy," he interrupted. "That was an accident."

"On your part, maybe, but what about on hers?" Felicity argued back lowly. He fell silent.

"I don't think she's that bad," he protested weakly, and she shrugged.

"She's good at putting on an act in front of you and Tommy," she agreed. "But when she's not around people she wants to be on her side? Then she can be damn cruel, Oliver. You know the party just before you two got together? The one the cops interrupted?" He nodded and she continued. "Sara had a crush on you back then, and she was going to ask you out, but Laurel called the cops on you guys to stop her. Then the next day she asked you out instead. Sara was humiliated."

"Seriously?" Oliver raised his eyebrows in shock. He thought back over his years of knowing Laurel, re-examining certain things and suddenly seeing them in another light, picking up on passive-aggressive comments directed towards her sister or Felicity that he hadn't paid attention to before then. "You never told me," he frowned. She shrugged again.

"Like I said, I never felt secure in our relationship," she confessed. "I didn't want to-I was anxious to upset the status quo when it came to her. I never doubted your fidelity to me, but I still-I was frightened to push, in case I pushed too hard and you left."

"I'm not your father, Felicity," he said lowly.

"I know," she sighed. "But all the same. That's how I felt."

He sighed and pulled her closer, her hands playing gently with the hairs on the back of his neck. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't realize you doubted us. I never did."

"You were always more confident than me," was her rueful response.

"You were talking about after you got back," Oliver prompted her after a few moments of silence.

She cleared her throat and nodded. "It hurt," she said after a second. "It hurt to see you with somebody else. And then, when you said that you'd never really believed that I was gone-that really hurt, Oliver. I mean, either you were telling the truth and you really had believed I was alive, in which case you had given up and abandoned me, even after swearing you never would. Or else you were lying to me, and I hate being lied to. It hurt. And it hurt that you didn't break up with her straight away either. I know it's not fair, but that's how I felt."

"You lied to me as well," Oliver pointed out softly, before going on without giving her the chance to answer. "I never meant to hurt you, Lissy. I just-" he sighed heavily, rubbing his forehead with one hand. "I didn't _want_ to move on. I really couldn't bring myself to accept that you were dead, but it was harder and harder with every year. And then after Hong Kong, it felt as if the last chance of you being alive was gone, and everybody kept telling me that Will needed a mother, and Laurel-she was easy, you know? She was always there, and she never pushed me to work to be better. Not the way you did. I didn't have to make an effort with her. And when you came back, I had made a commitment to her, and I didn't want to hurt her. You were pushing me away too. That's why I didn't end the engagement straight away."

Felicity gave a small nod as her eyes flicked to the side. "About Hong Kong," she said cautiously after a moment of inner debate. Oliver was no fool, and understanding lit up his eyes.

"It _was_ you who used the email, wasn't it?" He demanded sharply, voice accusing. Her eyes stung as she nodded silently. Oliver pulled away, expression betrayed. "You weren't on the island? What the fuck, Felicity? Why didn't you come home? If you weren't really there-"

"I _was_ , I _was_ on Lian Yu," Felicity insisted desperately. "Just-I was there for around three years, not five. And I _wanted_ to come back, Oliver, I really did. But ARGUS picked me up at the end of my second year there. They threatened to kill you and Will, and even Thea and Quentin if I didn't do what they said. I saw a live video of an armed ARGUS agent walking just behind Raisa while she was with Will in the park. Waller threatened to have all of you killed if I revealed that I was alive. When you went to Hong Kong? They sent me to kill you. I looked through a sniper scope at you and Tommy. I _had_ to stay away, Oliver. She would have done it, and not even batted an eyelash."

Oliver was pale at that, and he ran a hand through his hair, trembling slightly. "Then what changed?"

She shrugged, expression turning from desperate to guarded. "I managed to negotiate my release," was her vague response.

He clenched his jaw, face turning frustrated. "You know, you have to let me in at some point, Felicity," he insisted, voice strained. "If we want this marriage to work, you have to talk about what happened. Hell, if it's too hard to talk to me, talk to Dig, or we can find a therapist or _something._ But you can't keep bottling this up for the rest of your life, Felicity. It'll kill you way faster than any bullet will."

She swallowed and clenched her hands into fists. "It's not that easy, Oliver," she whispered. "What I went through, what I did...just thinking of it makes my throat close over. I just want to forget."

His face softened and he ran his thumb over her cheekbone, eyes gentle. "Babe, you know it's not that simple," he said kindly.

She sighed, wrapping her arms around herself. "I know," she admitted. "I will, I swear. Just-give me time, please? I'm not ready yet."

He pursed his lips but gave a reluctant nod. "So what now?" He asked.

She shrugged, a half-smile making the edges of her lips quirk up at the sides. "Couples' counselling?"

"Actually, I think that's a good idea," Oliver replied seriously. "Obviously we won't bring up the whole vigilante thing, but maybe it could help."

She bit her lip and then squared her shoulders, meeting his gaze. "I'm willing to try if you are," she agreed. He leaned in to kiss her forehead, and she closed her eyes to savour the touch.

"I'd burn the world to make you smile," he told her. "So I think counselling isn't too much to ask."

She smiled and kissed his cheek.

"What about the Archer stuff?" Oliver asked after several minutes of the two of them just sitting in a comfortable silence, his arms around her.

She wanted their marriage to work purely for the feeling of safety he gave her every time he held her, even knowing that she far outstripped him in fighting prowess, and this position would actually work against them if they were in it when attacked. Nowhere and nobody else gave her that feeling. It was pure nirvana.

"What about it?" She replied in a guarded tone.

"Are you going to keep on with it?" He clarified.

She sighed, and rubbed her forehead. "I don't have the time right now," she dodged the question. "Later, when we're all healed and everything, then we'll talk."

"Alright," Oliver agreed. "Hey, I have an idea."

"Oh? Do tell."

He kissed her forehead, eyes sparkling with mischief when she met his gaze. "Go get William, and we can watch Brave," he suggested.

She grimaced. The prospect of watching a film with her family was lovely, but Merida, like the Hunger Games, caused her physical pain at how terribly the archery was portrayed. Unfortunately, William loved the Disney movie, and Oliver took an impish joy in the way Felicity had to hide her winces at the terrible inaccuracy of the shots made.

"You're bold," she scolded him lightly as she levered herself off the bed and made her way to the door.

"Ah, you love me anyway," Oliver retorted with a grin.

She smiled back. "I do," she confirmed, before heading out to retrieve their son.


	22. Begin Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The return of the Vigilante of Starling City

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow. Thanks to everyone enjoying this and welcome to Season 2 of Artemis!**

**Happy 31** **st** **birthday to Felicity Queen née Smoak!**

**Read, enjoy and review!**

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

**Begin Again**

"It's not looking good, Felicity," Oliver stated grimly, studying the documents spread out between them with a deep frown. "We don't have enough to buy up the last ten percent of stocks, but Stellmoor certainly does."

"I don't like this Rochev woman," Felicity added, repeating a sentiment she'd been saying since she first heard the name Isabel Rochev. She couldn't remember where she knew the name from, but something about the dark-haired woman made her skin crawl.

She sighed, resting her chin on one hand while the other twisted her ponytail thoughtfully. "Something about her is off. And I find it very suspicious that she used to work for Queen Consolidated, was hastily fired under mysterious circumstances and is now in charge of a hostile takeover of it. Even your mother says she's dangerous, but I can't find _anything_ on her."

"Nothing at all that we could use?" He asked hopefully.

"Everything I have on her is clean as a whistle," she answered sourly. "Creeps me out, really. Nobody is that clean, especially someone who acts like that."

Her eyes flashed angrily at the memory of Ms. Rochev's disdainful and arrogant air, not to mention the way she fluctuated between treating Oliver like dirt beneath her shoe and blatantly flirting with him right in front of Felicity's eyes. It had taken everything in her to keep Felicity from going after the woman. Fists or bow, she wasn't picky in this case.

She shook her head, rubbing her forehead. "What about stocks? We can't use an offshore account, it's too risky, but if we sold one or two of the summer homes, maybe...?"

"The sale would never go through in time," Oliver sighed. "We only have a few days left before the board releases the last ten percent."

Stellmoor worked _fast_ , and discreetly. Distracted by everything else going on, both personally and professionally, it wasn't until the other company had snatched up thirty-nine percent of the stocks, giving them a large share in QC stocks, that Oliver and Felicity had realized the threat. Even worse, they'd been forced to sell some of their own shares to pay for Moira's legal fees (and they had also covered Dig's hospital fees when paying off Oliver's own bills, much to their friend's exasperated gratefulness). What with most of their accounts still frozen and remaining so for the foreseeable future, and the renters who had been staying in their extra homes having left at the end of the holidays, things weren't good financially. (Well, they still remained a part of the one percent, but there was a stark difference to this time last year. Felicity, used to frugality and having grown up in poverty, was fine, but the born Queens were all struggling to deal with it).

They had managed to buy back some shares when they realized the danger, and were currently neck and neck with Stellmoor, the other company holding forty-five and the same for the Queen family. But Stellmoor had a lot more resources available than the disgraced Queens, and they had already managed to snatch up and destroy Merlyn Global Group, worsening the already-disastrous state of Starling's economy. MGG had employed twenty percent of Starling City's residents, and QC employed another (approximately) twenty-three. Already things were dire with so many having lost their jobs due to the Undertaking and MGG's collapse. If QC was destroyed as well, the economy would tank completely, and the city would never manage to survive the crisis, so soon on the heels of everything else.

"Maybe that's it," Oliver mumbled, rubbing his scruffy chin.

"You have to elaborate honey," Felicity responded, arching an eyebrow at him. "I'm not a mind reader." It was a reference to their marriage counselling. Given both of them were disinclined to share their emotions and thoughts with anybody outside of their inner circle, but were eager to repair their marriage, it was going as well as they could hope. Their doctor was a Doctor Sharon Finkel. She was based in Central City, but given it was only an hour's drive away and there was far less interest in their family in CC than there was in Starling and Doctor Finkel was credited for her discretion, it was worth the trip. They got on well enough with her, anyway.

Oliver nodded and straightened up, clearing his throat to explain his idea. "Walter is the new CFO at SNB," he began, Felicity nodding along. Walter and Moira's divorce had been confirmed about a month prior and he had resigned from his position of CEO of Queen Consolidated to pass the title to Oliver, but the kind man continued to stay in touch with his stepchildren, giving advice to Oliver and continuing to act as a parental figure to Thea, while remaining 'Grandpa Wally' to Will. Felicity was very grateful to him for it. God knew the family needed his support desperately.

"And everybody in Starling knows that QC being taken over by Stellmoor would be too much for the city to handle financially," Oliver went on. "The city just can't afford it. Not now, anyway. We're too fragile. I could use that as leverage to get SNB to buy up the remaining stocks before Rochev, and then buy them back over time from the bank."

"It's worth a shot," Felicity agreed thoughtfully, just before their phones chimed with a reminder that they needed to get ready for their meeting with the Stellmoor VP. Felicity made a face. "Ugh, my head's pounding just thinking about dealing with her again," she sighed unhappily.

"You don't have to come," Oliver offered. "You could take the rest of the day, go home and relax. You're always on the go, babe. You need to take a break."

She wasn't working as the Vigilante currently. Any time that Dig and Oliver tried to bring it up, something that was happening more and more lately, she either changed the subject or simply left the room. But even without that, she was exhausted from everything currently on her plate, which she was also using to avoid going back into vigilantism. She _could_ adjust things enough to manage, if she wanted to.

She just didn't want to.

Pushing those thoughts to the side, Felicity chewed the inside of her cheek, tempted by his offer. "I'll go and see how Thea's doing before collecting Will from school," she decided. The Queen heiress had kindly taken over running Verdant for her overstretched brother, and had really come into her own as a businesswoman. "See if I can coax her into visiting Moira," Felicity added in a softer voice.

Oliver grimaced slightly, nodding. While Oliver and Felicity had both calmed down enough that they were both going to visit Moira, as they understood her actions even though they didn't agree with them, Thea was clinging to her anger, and would neither visit nor phone her mother despite repeated arguments with Oliver and Felicity on the matter. Even Walter and Roy thought she should go, but Thea was as stubborn as the rest of her family, and refused to budge.

"Love you," Felicity murmured, leaning in to kiss him softly on the lips. "Don't let that bitch get under your skin. _Your_ family put their blood, sweat and tears into building this company and it belongs to _you_. No one will take it from you. Certainly not Isabel fucking Rochev."

He smiled softly back at her, reaching out to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear as he replied. " _Our_ family put its blood, sweat and tears into building QC," he corrected her. "And no one will take it from _us_."

She smiled back in appreciation of his words, kissing him again before gathering her things and heading out of the office, leaving him to go over his notes for the meeting a final time, pausing long enough to kiss Dig's cheek and tell him where she was going. Then she headed out, pausing at the front desk to order the receptionist to keep Rochev's group waiting at least twenty minutes after they arrived, purely to be spiteful and petty.

Felicity _really_ hated that woman.

* * *

"Hey, Felicity," Quentin greeted his adoptive daughter tiredly. "It's me."

_"Hi, Quentin,"_ Felicity answered, her voice made slightly crackly by the reception. _"Everything ok?"_

"I'm sorry, but I can't make it to dinner with you and Will tonight, sweetheart," he said, sincerely disappointed. The dinners with his surrogate daughter and grandson were the highlight of his life, nowadays. "I'm stuck at work."

_"Can you say what happened?"_ She asked concernedly. _"Are you okay?"_

"I'm fine, don't worry," he assured her as he grimaced, glancing around the bustling scene. "Seems the Archers have upped their game," he explained. "They attacked the gala this evening, shot the mayor dead."

He heard Felicity suck in a sharp breath. _"Was anybody else hurt?"_ She inquired after a moment of silence. Things in Starling City had been bad for a long time, but now crime rates were the highest in American history. Starling had even overtaken Gotham, with its corruption-riddled force, as the worst city for crime in the United States.

It was a sad time to call yourself a SCPD officer. Things had gotten so bad, Quentin was actually wishing for the Vigilante's return. He didn't approve of her methods, but they _worked_ , and sometimes you had to burn the barn because there were just too many rats to chase out.

"Now, thank God," Quentin assured her. "Just scared and upset. But it's not a good sign, honey. They were only going after people in the financial sector up until tonight. Keep close to your security, okay?" He didn't want to say it aloud, but if the Archers were expanding their target base, then the Queens were a logical target. He'd have to warn Merlyn and his family too. But seeing as Malcolm Merlyn was dead, people tended to focus more on the Queen family's involvement than the Merlyns, unfortunately.

_"Yeah,"_ Felicity said, voice distant. _"Well, if you're working I should let you go. Raincheck?"_

"Definitely," Quentin confirmed. "Love you, sweetheart."

_"Love you too,"_ she responded warmly, before hanging up.

Quentin sighed and got back to work helping secure the crime scene. An hour later, he was done. But as much as he wished to, he couldn't go home just yet. He glanced at the text from his friend Anthony, frowning deeply.

He drove to the bar quickly, ducking inside and heading to where Anthony, who owned the place, was prepping a drink for someone.

"Where is she?" The ex-detective asked tiredly. The bartender gave him a sympathetic look, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder towards the backroom where his office was.

"In the office," he answered. "She was getting agitated when I cut her off, insulting me and the other customers, so I popped her in there and texted you. I checked on her a little while ago and she had fallen asleep."

"Thanks, Ant," Quentin replied gratefully. Since Joanna's death during the Undertaking, pushing Laurel out of the way of some falling debris, his daughter's drinking, already a problem, had gotten completely out of control. And she was a cruel drunk, dredging up every old wound and throwing it at him, spewing venom about Felicity, Oliver, and even Sara. She'd gotten multiple DUIs. While Quentin had managed to shield her from the first few, her fourth had been one too many, and her licence had been revoked for a minimum of two years before she could reapply for a new one. The only consolation was nobody had been hurt. On top of that, her alcoholism had gotten around and she had failed to get a new job, despite applying to several different places. As a result, she'd lost her apartment and was now back living with Quentin.

Despite his best efforts and the downward spiral she was in, Quentin couldn't get through to her. She just got angrier whenever he tried, digging her heels in and snarling about how hypocritical he was, given his own history with alcohol. He had tried to bring her to an AA meeting, and she had erupted in rage at him before storming out. He was at his wit's end, trying to deal with her.

At this point, he was seriously considering contacting Dinah and talking to her about having Laurel put in a rehab facility. They were running out of options.

"Dad?" Laurel slurred tiredly when he gently shook her awake. The stench of alcohol was strong enough to turn a stomach. "Whad're you doin' 'ere?"

"Came to take you home, sweetheart," he responded gently, hoping she was tired enough to refrain from her usual abusive talk. It hurt to hear, and it angered him when she spoke angrily about Felicity and Sara. Whatever the internal problems of the family, speaking about them like that was completely unacceptable. He was actively having to ensure she was kept away from Felicity, as he feared what she would do in the midst of a drunken rage. He hated to contemplate the possibility of his own daughter attacking her ex's wife, but he was also too wise to what alcohol and grief could turn a person into to ignore the possibility just because it hurt to contemplate.

"Fine," Laurel agreed in a bleary voice. She staggered to her feet, and Quentin slipped an arm around her to guide her to his car, nodding a goodbye and thank you to Anthony who returned the gesture. He helped Laurel in and did her belt himself, seeing as she was too out of it to do so herself. Then he went around to the driver's seat and started to drive.

"Sweetheart, I had an idea for something I thought you might like," he ventured carefully, glancing at her quickly.

"What?" She mumbled, slightly more awake now than she had been at the bar.

"I thought you could sign up for some sort of martial arts class," he told her. "You know, fill up your time." And get out her anger at the world in a healthier way than she was currently doing.

It had actually been Felicity's suggestion. Despite her and Laurel's mutual dislike of each other, Felicity was the kind of person who was likely to offer her coat to a person on the street if they needed it, something everyone in Starling was aware of. The sole reason the Queens were doing as well as they were was because, when Felicity donated heavily to relief efforts, it wasn't seen as trying to bribe the family's way out of trouble, but as a genuine attempt to help. They were still suffering, but nobody was going to form an angry mob to attack them, now the initial anger was beginning to lessen a bit.

On hearing of Laurel's current difficulties, Felicity had suggested she start kickboxing classes, or something similar. Apparently, she did several types of martial arts now, using it as a way of relieving her stress about the Undertaking, QC, SCT and the island. Quentin was just embarrassed he hadn't considered it before. He had made all of his girls learn a level of self-defence, of course, and he knew several people who used fighting classes to get out their anger, but the thought of suggesting it to Laurel hadn't occurred to him.

His daughter frowned, eyes still glazed. "Martial arts?" She echoed.

"Yeah," Quentin nodded. "There's this place called Wildcat Gym, and it's running a free course on self-defence for women for the next couple weeks, starting on Saturday. I thought you might want to give it a go, then decide if you want to keep it on."

Laurel looked thoughtful. "Sounds interesting," she admitted. "I-"

The radio had been on in the background, discussing the mayor's murder, but now the topic changed to Oliver's attempts to keep QC out of Stellmoor International's paws. Laurel's face darkened resentfully at the mention of the couple.

"It's not fair," she spat bitterly. Quentin bit back a sigh, cursing himself for leaving the stereo on, and braced himself to hear her usual diatribe against Oliver and Felicity. "How could Ollie do that to me?" Laurel complained. "My _whole life_ , everyone said that the two of us would be perfect for each other. I put up with all of his cheating and drinking and drugs, took him back and put up with that whiney brat of his after _She_ disappeared, because I knew it would be worth it when I was Mrs. Queen. Everyone always talked about what a wonderful couple we were. 'Lauriver', the tabloids called us, remember Dad? Ollie was going to be the CEO of Queen Consolidated, and I would've been the District Attorney eventually. We would've been the power couple of Starling. It's not fair that Felicity stole that from me, same as she stole Sara and you."

"Hey, Felicity never stole us from you!" Quentin objected, unable to stay silent and listen to that accusation. "You're my daughter, you were Sara's older sister and her idol." When she was younger, at least, Laurel had been Sara's idol. Then they had started getting older, their personalities had changed, they had found their own friends with similar personalities and they had grown apart, as siblings did. But that had never changed their love for each other. "Felicity had nobody else and she was Sara's best friend, so we took her in. But loving her doesn't for a second mean that we love you any less."

It was true. A parent's love was boundless. Nothing Laurel did would ever turn Quentin against her. She could disappoint him, but never make him abandon her or stop loving and caring about her.

Laurel humphed, glowering and crossing her arms over her chest. "Sure, but Felicity is your favourite," she said resentfully. "She's _everyone's_ favourite. Saint _fucking_ Felicity, that's what she is. Queen of Hearts. Off with her head, I say!"

Quentin sighed. "So, what do you think about trying out those classes?" He pressed, hoping to change the subject. They turned into the driveway.

"I guess it could take up some time," she shrugged indifferently. Quentin nodded, ignoring her unenthusiastic tone. Hopefully this would be good for her.

"Great!" He said brightly. "I'll give you the flyer in the morning so you can give 'em a call to put your name down."

She nodded, still scowling as she exited the car and slammed the door shut. Quentin sighed after she was gone, reaching into the glove compartment to look at a photo of her, Sara and Felicity as teenagers, before Oliver Queen had come into their lives and complicated everything. Felicity and Laurel had never been close, but it wasn't until Oliver started going out with Felicity a few months after breaking up with Laurel that they'd started _not_ getting along with one another.

God, he missed those days. Days when his girls were all happy, carefree and, most importantly, alive and safe. He kissed the photo gently.

"I love you girls," he murmured. "I won't give up on you, Laurel. Not ever."

Then he returned it to the compartment and went inside. Laurel was already slumped on top of her bed covers, not even her shoes removed, snoring softly. Quentin went around getting the necessities she would require for her hangover, a bottle of aspirin, glass of water and a small bin in case she had to throw up. Then he removed her shoes, tucked her in, and went to his own bed, falling asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow.

* * *

_**Lian Yu: 2008** _

_Felicity scrubbed her hands raw, trying desperately to remove all traces of the blood that had been staining them. But even after the water turned clear, she continued to scrub. It felt as if the blood from the men she had killed had seeped into her skin, staining her soul and tainting it._

_She was a killer. It didn't matter if everyone she'd killed was threatening either her own life or another's. The road to hell was paved with good intentions, after all. She looked at her reflection in the water, and couldn't find the young girl/woman who had married Oliver Queen and given birth to his son. If they ever escaped this godforsaken hellhole, and on that she had her doubts, how was she ever going to face them? How would she be able to hold her son or her husband without staining them with her sins?_

_Shado waited patiently as she washed off the blood, but eventually she stepped closer, resting a hand on Felicity's shoulder and tugging her gently away from the lake. The younger woman looked at her friend with a defeated air, shoulders slumped and eyes sorrowful._

_"You saved my life," the Chinese archer told her softly, trying to reassure her._

_Felicity gave a half-shrug, recalling the events of earlier that morning. She and Slade had tracked Shado and her captors down quickly enough, finding the men interrogating the last of their trio about the location of some place in a picture. It had been difficult for them both to hold back from running straight in, but they had managed. Bereft of any long-range weapons, they had been forced to simply jump in to fight in close quarters, a disadvantage to Felicity if not the others. Shado had leaped into action as soon as she saw them arrive. There had been seven men. Shado had taken out two, Slade three, and the last had died moments before he could shoot Shado from behind when Felicity jumped on his back and slit his throat after dealing with her first enemy._

_She hadn't even hesitated to go for a lethal attack for either man. It had become almost instinctual. Kill her opponent without thought or hesitation._

_What kind of person had reflexes like that?_

_"That's what I keep telling myself," she responded dully. "That I killed that guy because he was going to kill you. That it was murder in defence of another. Justifiable. But what if that's not the reason? I just feel like this island is... It's turning me into something terrible. Someone I don't even recognize anymore."_

_Shado shook her head. "No island, no place can make you something you're not," she insisted._

_Felicity wasn't comforted. "So I've always been a murderer?" She asked bitterly. "Well, that's always nice to know."_

_Shado sighed, reaching out to cup Felicity's face and direct their gazes to meet. "Everyone has a demon inside of them," she told her. "The 'dao de jing' recognizes the yin and the yang. Opposing forces inside all of us. The darkness. And the light. The killer... and the hero."_

_"Others say that killing steals a piece of your soul," Felicity pointed out sadly. "What happens when you've killed so many people, there's nothing left to steal?"_

_Shado never got the opportunity to reply, as Slade called for them to hurry up so they could get moving before the attackers' reinforcements arrived and Felicity turned away to grab her backpack and get moving. After that, things kicked into high-gear and they never got the chance to return to the conversation._

* * *

Despite her best efforts to avoid it, Thea's kidnapping by the so-called 'Archers', the quartet of gun-wielding men with bows they obviously didn't know how to use strung across their backs who had been plaguing Starling over the past month, made the decision for her. The Archers had attacked and nearly shot her husband at a meeting that morning, and kidnapped Thea that afternoon. It was clear they were targeting the Queens, which left her without any more options. As soon as Felicity heard the news, she instructed Dig to drive Oliver to the base (which the two men had apparently gotten repaired when SCT itself was being fixed up after the quake), where they got straight down to work, as if they'd never stopped in the first place.

She and the other two tracked the group down using Roy's description of one of the men, and within two hours of Thea's capture, she had a location and names.

She arrived in the church they had tracked the Archers to, just in time to see one of the men point a gun into Thea's face as the bound girl cowered away. Without hesitation, Felicity ripped an arrow from her quiver and fired.

"Ow!" the guy cried, staggering back and clutching at his wound.

"Get away from her!" Felicity ordered as she jumped down to engage the group in combat. Their training was rudimentary, save for the Marine, but while she was taking down the other three, the man who'd been about to shoot her sister-in-law, grabbed Thea and dragged her along with him, using her as a human shield to protect himself from the lethal vigilante. Felicity knocked out the last of her opponents and ran after them, cornering him in the alcove above the dais.

"Let... Her... Go," Felicity demanded, arrow aimed.

"You want to save her?" he asked disbelievingly, voice impassioned. "There was no justice for us from people like the Queens till _you_ showed us how to get it. _You_ showed us!"

"I don't go after innocents," Felicity answered coldly.

"She's not innocent!"

"She's more innocent than you," Felicity retorted, before giving up on talking and shooting him instead. The arrow hit his shoulder, making him release Thea and topple over the side of the railing. Felicity lunged and grabbed his arm to stop his fall, glancing at Thea, wide-eyed beside her.

"Go!" she snapped, the brunette girl swiftly obeying. Felicity set about securing the four and chaining them to a fence before contacting Lance and telling him their location. Then she trudged home, certain that by morning all of Starling would know that the Archer had returned.


	23. Fraught Reunions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The return of someone the team believed to be long dead.

" **Reunions are always fraught with awkward tensions the necessity to account for oneself; the attempt to find, through memories, an ember of the old emotions."**

_Anita Shreve_

**Disclaimer: I don't Arrow.**

* * *

**IMPORTANT AN: Alright, as the daughter and niece of several doctor who work with terminal cases and as such is heavily involved in Covid, I have to say this. My mother is distraught and on the verge of tearing her hair out with upset frustration because of how lax people are being. Covid is not a joke! Just because lockdown is ended (and doctors say it'll need to be re-started soon if people aren't following guidelines) doesn't mean everything is fine. Everyone who goes out ignoring social distancing and without a mask, or who has a mask but has it on their chin or not covering their noses or whatever, is being selfish and putting not just themself, but everyone around them, in danger.**

**Social distancing, wearing a mask, these are ESSENTIAL, they are not arbitrary rules put in place to inconvenience you. They are there to PROTECT you! Masks are now proven to prevent the spread of Covid, AND to prevent YOU from spreading it. But if you wear it on your chin, then pull it up, you're not going to benefit from it. Nor will you be protected if your nose isn't covered. And as for visors, they don't do anything as far as my mother, aunt and uncle know. They need a mask beneath them to really work. Re-useable masks MUST be washed after every use, no matter how irritating it is.**

**We are in the middle of a worldwide pandemic people! I know it's annoying, it bothers me too, the masks are uncomfortable to wear and they fog up my glasses, but I STILL WEAR them. Why? Because if I went out without one, and became a Covid carrier, then I would be responsible for spreading it to anyone I passed, putting their lives at risk.**

**Bottom line? If you don't follow government guidelines, purely because they're irritating for you, you're as good as a murderer in my eyes.**

**So fucking wear a mask and practice social distancing. The more you do it, the sooner the pandemic will end and we can go back to our regular lives. For now, don't be a killer.**

* * *

**Skipping over Identity and Dollmaker, right to Crucible. You all know what that means. Read, enjoy and review!**

**Twenty-Three**

**Fraught Reunions**

Felicity smirked as she jumped from one rooftop to the next, avoiding the blasts of gunfire with ease. Did they _really_ think that was going to stop her? Idiots.

"Over there!" one yelled, panicked.

"Where?" the other responded, firing frantically in her direction. It was almost funny, how stupid they were being. All they were doing was wasting ammo. Of course, this was part of why archery was superior to gunfighting. Any moron could shoot a gun, and if they had enough bullets, eventually they'd hit something, but archery required focus, discipline.

These guys would never manage to even knock an arrow properly.

"Watch out man!" one cried in a terrified tone.

Felicity smirked as she whipped out a trick arrow, firing and watching as it tied up one of the gangbangers. Then she turned her attention to dealing with the next, quirking her blood-red lips in a small grin as the moron made a run for it. She dropped down next to the tied-up idiot, studying him amusedly as he shook with terror, failing epically in his attempt to hide his fear of her. The other one had gotten away, but he had left his 'comrade' and cargo behind, so she was content.

She turned on her captive, dawning an expression she knew appeared sinister as she grabbed his jaw in one hand. "Where are you getting the guns?" she growled at him in a low tone.

"If you're gonna kill me," the guy sneered, trying to sound tough. _Trying_ , being the key word. He was shaking too much for it to work. "Get it over with."

Felicity rolled her eyes in irritation. "Where did you get the guns?" she repeated slowly. When he failed to respond, she punched him hard in the jaw, watching through lidded eyes as he whimpered.

"The Mayor gets them!" He exclaimed. "I don't know where from!"

Felicity scowled and punched his lights out, pulling out her burner phone to tip off SCPD before heading away via the rooftops.

"Dig," she spoke into her comm as she hopped from roof to roof. "I took out two more gangbangers. Armed with M4-A1 assault rifles."

"Those are military-only weapons," Dig replied, concerned.

"Yeah, I know," Felicity grumbled. It was worrying to think of how they could have ended up in the hands of a bunch of gangbangers. Was there somebody in the military selling weapons on the black market? That could be a disaster.

"They must've been stolen," Dig mused.

"But from where?" Felicity wondered. "Guy mentioned somebody called the Mayor? An alias, I guess. I don't think our belated and unlamented mayor of Starling City has decided to pull a Lazarus, purely for the sake of selling military-grade weapons for profit."

"Must be," her partner agreed thoughtfully. "I'll give Lyla a call. See if she knows anything."

"Good," she replied. "I need to drop these guys at the precinct. Then I-"

"Can go to the party," Dig responded smoothly.

Felicity paused, squinting. "Party?" she repeated, as if he had just spoken in Arabic. "What party?"

"The one for QC," Dig reminded her. "Remember?"

"Oh yes," Felicity muttered, recalling Oliver reminding her about it earlier. "Do I really have to be there?"

"You're the CEO's wife and a shareholder, so yes, you are," Dig answered. She could practically hear the smirk in his voice at the prospect of her having to go and schmooze a bunch of rich assholes. Bastard.

* * *

Felicity reluctantly arrived at the party, dressed in a dark purple dress that probably wasn't good enough for the setting. She spotted Oliver immediately, jaw tight and in the midst of what looked like a tense conversation with Isabel Rochev.

Not that having a civil talk with the woman was an option, in Felicity's experience.

She walked over quickly, wondering not for the first time if she could find an excuse to deal with Rochev somehow. Plant evidence of fraud, or embezzlement or something. Something that would rid them of the plague that was Oliver's so-called co-CEO, whom they were all sure was still plotting to snatch QC out from underneath Oliver's nose.

"Hey," Felicity interrupted the discussion with a fake bright smile that turned real when she spied Rochev's disdainful expression at the sight of her. "Sorry I'm late. Got held up."

"No prob," Oliver replied, scanning her quickly. She smiled at him and took his hand, silently assuring him that she was fine.

Rochev began to speak, then paused and stared at Felicity's cheek. "Is that blood?"

Felicity blinked, then gave a polite scoff. "No, of course not," she responded easily. "I had tomato soup for dinner. Mustn't have gotten it all. Excuse me, I'll go and sort that out. Oliver, gimme a hand would you? I don't have a mirror on me."

She hustled him away, ignoring the outrage flashing over Rochev's expression at her borderline-rude attitude.

"What happened?" Oliver hissed at her. "Did you get in a fight with your blonde stalker?"

Felicity glowered at the mention of the mysterious woman who kept showing up and shook her head, dabbing at the smudge of blood on her cheek. "No, not this time," she promised him. "This time it was guns."

"Oh, we were just talking about guns," Blood appeared, Laurel beside him. Felicity stiffened. She didn't trust Blood, not since he had climbed his way into the spotlight by complaining about the Queens and blaming them for everything wrong under the sun. Her distrust had turned to outright hatred when he had incited a mob into attacking Oliver, who had thankfully been protected by Diggle, resulting him only ending up with a mild concussion and some scratches from the broken glass.

The fact that Blood now seemed to be dating Laurel, didn't make Felicity feel any better. She wasn't even sure how it had happened. She just knew that the pair had met because they both went to Wildcat Gym, and they had apparently bonded.

Felicity faked politeness towards the other two, but the news about the so-called Mayor was interesting. At least now she had a lead. Once the pair had drifted off, she turned back to Oliver and saw the look in his eyes.

"What?" she hissed.

"Felicity, the masked woman," he said urgently, voice low. "We assumed that she was going after you for some reason, because she kept appearing where you were, the roof above that street, the chemical plant. But you weren't the only person at both of those places!"

Felicity inhaled sharply. "Laurel," she murmured in sudden understanding. "She's not following me, she's following _Laurel_."

* * *

Using their new knowledge, it was easy to capture the mysterious woman just two rooftops away from Laurel's apartment.

What _wasn't_ easy was what happened when Felicity laid eyes on someone she thought she would never see again.

"Why are you following Laurel Lance?" Felicity growled through her voice modulator at the bound woman, glaring at her.

"I could ask the same of you," she shot back, abandoning her struggles and relaxing into a cocky stance. Something about her voice and features nagged at Felicity, reminding her of somebody she had once known, but she couldn't place it properly.

In no way was Felicity going to inform her that Laurel was the sister of Felicity's dead best friend and the daughter of her surrogate father, so the archer stalked closer, a lethal scowl on her face and an arrow pointed directly at the blonde's face.

" _Who are you_?"

"Once you know, your life will never be the same," the woman warned her in a saucy tone. Felicity ignored the warning, realizing that she was wearing a wig-mask combo like her own and reaching out to take it off. A sense of anticipation and nerves in her stomach made her hand tremble slightly as she removed the other vigilante's mask and wig. She immediately dropped them in shock. Tears stung her eyes and she covered her mouth in disbelief at the sight, the arm holding her weapon falling to her side uselessly.

"Sara?" her voice came out soft and broken as she stared at the other blonde. For a moment, Felicity flashed back to first the boat, when she had seen Sara be ripped away by the water. Then she remembered the last time she'd laid eyes on Sara Lance, when she had been _certain_ the other girl was dead.

How had she survived?

"Hey, Lis," Sara smiled sadly at her.

"How is this possible?" Felicity asked brokenly, one hand covering her mouth and tears streaming from her eyes despite her best efforts to hold them back.

Sara sighed heavily, looking away. "How about I give you some time to adjust?" she suggested, before pressing something.

"No!" Felicity objected, realizing the other woman was about to escape and moving to stop her. She was too slow, however. There was an explosion of light, and by the time Felicity could see again, Sara had disappeared.

Again.

* * *

She stumbled back to the lair on autopilot, shaken and unsteady and flooded by memories of her time with Sara on the island. Of Slade and Shado. Ivo and the Mirakuru. She could feel herself shaking, her mind splintering under the weight of everything she had been through.

The guys were waiting for her return, alarm flashing across their expressions at the sight of her wrecked state.

"Felicity what happened?" Oliver demanded, the pair hurrying over to her as she removed her bow and quiver and placed them on the table.

"Are you hurt?" Dig added, scanning her worriedly.

"It was Sara," Felicity informed them flatly, drifting over to a chair and slumping into it, burying her head in her hands. "Sara Lance."

"What?" Oliver demanded, voice stunned. His expression probably matched the tone, but Felicity was too shaken to look at him. "Sara? She survived? But you said that she drowned when the Gambit went down."

Felicity stiffened, looking away from them guiltily.

"You lied," Digg's voice was even, but Felicity could hear the accusation hidden within it.

She swallowed, trying to bury the memories in the box at the back of her mind and forcing her voice not to shake _too_ noticeably, though even Felicity couldn't completely pretend it wasn't unsteady.

"When "The Gambit" capsized, uh... Sara was pulled under," she started, staring past the guys at the opposite wall, visions of that awful night playing out before her. "It was so dark and cold. I called for her, but, nothing. I thought she drowned. Then, ah, about a year later, I saw her again."

"You saw where, on the island?" Dig asked, startled. "She drifted to the island, too?"

This was getting distressingly close to discussing Ivo, which would likely lead to discussing Shado and Slade. Not an option. Certainly not now, when she was in this state.

"Not exactly," Felicity replied hesitantly, wondering what to reveal, what to keep to herself.

"Why didn't you tell the Lances that she didn't die in that boat?" Oliver pressed. His voice sounded accusing too. "Detective Lance loves you like a daughter, and you've been lying to him."

"She asked me to!" Felicity snapped. "We _agreed_. If only one of us survived, the other would say that she had died in the wreck." Her shoulders slumped. "What was I gonna say, Oliver?" she asked painfully. "Sara survived around two years of agony after the wreck before dying painfully, instead of a quick and painless death when the boat went down. Yeah, that would go down well. The Lances didn't deserve that hurt on top of what they're already going through, and I promised her."

The two men exchanged glances before Dig pressed on, ignoring the pointed signals of 'I don't want to talk about this' that Felicity was trying her best to send out.

"Well, where has she been all these years, Felicity?"

"I _don't know_!" Felicity exclaimed. She leaned forward, eyes wide and imploring. "Diggle, I _swear to God._ I was _sure_ that she was dead."

Oliver turned away to punch the bag in frustration. "God, what a mess," he grumbled. No one bother to reply to his truthful statement.

"All right, so just to make sure I understand this correctly, after not drowning when "The Gambit" went down, Sara didn't exactly make it to the island with you, where you would see her not die yet again," Dig listed. "Feel free to fill in the blanks."

"Not right now," Felicity muttered. She couldn't do this right now, when it was taking everything in her to keep herself from falling apart completely.

"You mean not ever, don't you, Felicity?" Dig responded accusingly. "Don't you think her family had a right to know that she made it to the island, too? How can you look Lance in the eye every day while keeping that from him? A man you consider your father?"

"These were _five years_!" Felicity shrieked, pushed over the edge. She shot to her feet, expression wild and voice shrill and broken sounding. "Five _years_... Where _nothing_ good happened. And he was better off not knowing."

Oliver was looking at her with a stricken expression at her words and tone. Dig's face softened.

"Does he deserve to know now?" he asked softly.

Felicity wanted to answer, but all she could think of was Sara, and the dark memories tangled with thoughts of the other woman. She grabbed her bow and quiver and stormed towards the door, yanking her wig and mask back on.

"Where're you going?" Oliver called after her.

"In case you've forgotten, there's a mayor in town that needs impeaching!" Felicity snapped back.

"You know, Felicity, somebody once told me that... secrets have weight," Dig said, his voice making her stop and turn back to him, doing her best to keep her face blank. "The more you keep, the harder it is to keep moving."

"You see how hard I work out, right?" Felicity replied flatly. Then she left, thoughts of the first time she'd learned that Sara hadn't died when she thought she had playing out in her mind.

She made it as far as her office before she broke down in tears.

* * *

The next day, her head pounding after dealing with a variety of coding projects, too much coffee and too little sleep, Felicity stalked down the stairs to the basement with a scowl on her face.

"Gimme some good news," she urged her team as she joined the two men.

Diggle spoke first. "The bad news first," he stated. "Somehow the Mayor did get his hands on a crate of military-grade weapons from Camp Kirby."

"The good news?" Felicity prompted as she turned to face them, less than pleased by the report.

"If he kept the crate, we might be able to find where he's hiding," Oliver offered, pushing away from his seat and coming closer. "This is the same make and model of a tracking system the army installs on all of its weapons crates." He gestured at a device on the desk. "If they lose a crate, they send out a remote signal that activates the beacon."

"The Mayor's clever," Dig added. "He deactivated his beacon. Send a signal, nothing comes back."

Felicity gave them an irritated look. "How," she asked in a long-suffering tone. "Is _any_ of that _good_ news?"

"Ok," Oliver drawled. "How's this? Guess which company designed the tracking system the army uses? I'll give you a hint. You have the CEO on speed dial."

At last, Felicity felt the corners of her mouth turn up. "Nice," she murmured as Oliver showed her some blueprints on his QC tablet.

"I pulled up the original plans from the QC mainframe," he stated. "Turns out that there's a design flaw. The Mayor turned the tracker off, but we can turn it back on."

A moment later, a dot began to flash on the map. Oliver smirked at her. "I believe you ordered the crate of stolen military weapons, Mrs. Queen?" he grinned at her.

She smirked back, clasping his shoulder for a second before spinning and sauntering over to get changed into her vigilante gear.

* * *

"I thought you deactivated the tracker?" a man she suspected to be the Mayor exclaimed as she slipped into the warehouse. He smashed the flashing tracker, but before the group could celebrate, Felicity attacked. She almost felt sorry for them. She was in a terrible mood, and they were convenient targets for her anger and stress.

She leapt around the room, dodging gunfire.

"Cover me!" she heard the Mayor cry as she jumped down. She scowled in frustration when she scanned the area, despite knowing already what'd happened.

She glanced at the crate, satisfied that at least that part of the mission was a success. "Weapons are secure," she informed her team.

"And the mayor?" Dig asked.

"He got away," she admitted grudgingly.

* * *

_**Lian Yu: 2008** _

_"What happened to you?" Felicity asked Sara, as they huddled together for warmth. Shado was curled up against Slade, who's breath was raspy and heavy._

_He didn't have long, unless this 'Mirakuru' thing really worked. They were in sight of the sub, but it was too dark to risk climbing down to it. They would have to wait until the sun was up._

_"After the wreck, I mean," she added as an afterthought._

_She couldn't understand how Sara had ended up in this situation. Sara had always been a kind and loving person, if occasionally a little foolish and wild. How was it that she had spent a year participating in torture? Why had she chosen Ivo over Felicity? Only the fact that Sara had persuaded the so-called scientist to spare Felicity's life reassured her that the girl she called a sister was still there._

_Sara grimaced and looked away. "I woke up," she explained haltingly. "On some debris from the boat. There was a freighter in the distance. No sign of anyone else. The crew of the freighter rescued me, then put me in a cage." She faltered, shuddering a moment._

_Felicity went rigid. "Did they-?" She started to ask anxiously, recoiling from the memories of her time as Fyers' prisoner last year._

_Sara shook her head. "They left me there a while," she explained. "I was terrified. But eventually, Ivo rescued me. Took me under his protection. For the past year, he's been teaching me."_

_Felicity scoffed. "Teaching you what?" She sniped. "How to torture for Beginners?"_

_Sara clenched her jaw. "It's not like that," she insisted stubbornly. "Ivo's not-he's misguided, but he's not a bad person. Honestly, Lissy."_

_Felicity pursed her lips. She was still aching from the brutal treatment she had endured while imprisoned on the Amazo. Her shoulder was on fire from her clumsy removal of the bullet that had been lodged within and her awkward stitches. She fully disagreed with Sara's claim, but now was not the time. Sara evidently had some of that, what was it called? Stockholm Syndrome. Felicity would work on making her see sense later, when Slade's life wasn't at risk anymore and the crew of the Amazo were dealt with._

_"You should get some sleep," she advised her friend. "We'll need to get an early start in the morning."_

_Sara looked like she wanted to object, but then she sighed and nodded, curling against Felicity and resting her head on Felicity's uninjured shoulder as she closed her eyes to drift off._

_Felicity envied how quickly she managed it. She didn't think she would ever be able to fall asleep so easily again in her life after everything she had seen and done in the past year of her life._

* * *

The next morning, she was in the parking lot of QC when she, well, _sensed_ Sara more than anything else. The other blonde had learned how to walk as silently as Felicity over the past half-decade since they'd been separated. A far cry from the loudness that had made Felicity cringe in anticipation of an attack every time Sara broke a branch with a misplaced foot.

Felicity paused, inhaling and exhaling before turning to face her (possibly former) friend. They sized each other up for several moments, taking in the defensive stances and faded scars and calloused hands that proved each of them had been forged into warriors by the past years.

Sara was the one to break the silence. "I knew it was you," she said. "I've always kept eye on the news in Starling. When you were found and then right after I started hearing about this woman vigilante carrying a bow and seeming to be formed out of shadow, I knew it had to be you. The katana is new though."

"Not so new," Felicity disagreed, taking a step closer to the other woman. "I mastered kenjutsu in late '09, early '10."

"You're always the best at anything you put your mind to," Sara remarked. "Ironic though, isn't it? You used to forge doctor's notes to get out of PE, and now look at you. Coach Reynes would go into shock if he knew."

Felicity ignored the comment, focusing on what really mattered. "Sara," she said, unwilling to dance around the elephant in the room. "How did you survive? I _saw_ you die."

The other blonde gave a bitter smile and raised a shoulder in a shrug. "Not the first time that's happened, right?" she pointed out bitterly before going on. "And I thought you were dead, too. What happened to Slade?"

Felicity suppressed a flinch, answering the question with one of her own. "Where have you been?"

"Everywhere," Sara smirked back, blue eyes dancing with dark memories.

"That's not an answer," Felicity responded her flatly.

"Well, it's the only one you're getting," Sara replied stubbornly, lifting her chin in defiance.

Felicity huffed and changed to the topic. "You didn't use to be much of a fighter," she pointed out. "Now you've gotten a bit of a reputation. Quite the scrapper you are now, from what I hear. Where'd you pick that up, then?" It hadn't been on the island. The entire time they had been together, Felicity had been the main defence. Sara had only had some basic self-defence knowledge from the classes Quentin insisted she attend. Those did not explain how she could be as talented a fighter as she was reported to be now.

"I met some rough people," Sara answered mockingly. "Thought I should get rougher, too."

Felicity huffed in frustration at their games, yanking at her ponytail in annoyance. "Sara," she sighed. "Why did you come back?"

Sara looked away, shoulders slumping. "The earthquake," she stated simply. She looked back at where Felicity was patiently waiting for more.

"You're here for your family," Felicity sighed.

Sara nodded silently. "After the explosion," she swallowed. "I ended up being found by, this group. I was badly injured, and they tended me. We made a deal. I would, I would do a service for them, one for each day I took to heal."

Felicity nodded in sad understanding. "Assassins," she guessed. Sara gave a fraction of a nod, eyes bleak.

"I heard what happened, and I wanted to come straight back," she said, looking away. "But I was so close to earning my freedom, I didn't dare risk it. As soon as I could, I came back. But- did you tell anyone I'm back?"

Felicity pursed her lips, though she was starting to gain an inkling as to why Sara was avoiding reaching out to anyone from her past life. "I haven't told your dad or Laurel, no," she confirmed. "But you can't ask me not to tell them this. Quentin is the closest I have to a parent, and he's heartbroken over losing you. He has to know."

Sara never answered her. A noise drew their attention, Felicity automatically looking away from her companion to check out the new threat. By the time she'd looked back again, Sara had disappeared without a noise.

At least this time Felicity had managed to plant a bug on her. She could only hope that the other woman didn't notice, because Felicity didn't intend to lose her oldest friend a third time.

* * *

In the end, she didn't need the tracker. As soon as she heard of Sara's friend Sin being shot by the Mayor, Felicity knew where to find the other vigilante. She went to the rooftop across from Glades Memorial and shot a rappelling arrow at the wall beside where Sara, dressed in her platinum blonde wig and black leather catsuit, was peering in the window at her hospitalized friend. At the arrow's impact, Sara whipped her head in Felicity's direction before zipping over to her on the rope, using her staff as a pulley. She landed gracefully before her, her eyes blazing with anger behind her mask.

"Fancy playing a round of 'Capture the Criminal?'" Felicity suggested, smirking at her surrogate sister.

Sara bared her teeth in an approximation of a smile. "Sounds good," she agreed in a dangerous tone. "I need to hit somebody."

* * *

It didn't take long to take out the group. At the end of the fight, Sara had her arms around the Mayor's neck and Felicity recognized the hold. She was preparing to break the man's neck.

"Enough," she warned her friend. "No killing. That's the new Rule Number One."

"You can't save a city with forgiveness," Sara responded coldly.

"You're right about that," Felicity agreed. "That shit's for hippies, not vigilantes. But you _do_ have to let him live."

Sara scowled and loosened her grip on the gangbanger.

"Bitch," he choked out. "I knew you didn't have it in you."

She made a swift movement, knocking him unconscious. "I really don't like that word," she shrugged at Felicity innocently. The archer rolled her eyes, a smile tugging at the edges of her lips.

* * *

Later on, she cornered Sara again, this time in the halls of the hospital, after Felicity had hauled the gangbangers off to the police station and left them chained up and waiting for Lance to arrest them, her friend having hurried off to check on the girl she'd become so fond of. Felicity had fled before Quentin came out, not wanting to risk him spying her. She'd been avoiding him for the past few days, unable to look at or speak to him when she was keeping something so major from him and at the same time unable to go against Sara's clear wishes by revealing the truth.

"Your friend, Sin," Felicity stated, falling into step with her old friend. "Her medical expenses are taken care of."

"Thanks," Sara sighed. She cast a glance over her shoulder. "Look, I should get going-"

"What's your plan, Sara?" Felicity pressed her. "Because right now, you just... Well, you're whipping across rooftops and keeping watch over your family like some sort of ghost."

"We're both ghosts," Sara pointed out in a hollow voice, the same brokenness Felicity saw in the mirror shining from her eyes. "We died on that island."

"No, we didn't," Felicity denied. "We both lived. We changed, yes. But we _survived_. We're strong, Sare. _You're_ strong. And... I get that you have been in pain so long that it probably just feels normal now. Believe, it frightens me more when I realize that I'm feeling genuinely _happy_ then when I'm pissed or in pain or both. But you can let it go and come home."

They stopped walked and Felicity grasped Sara's hands, giving her an imploring look. "Just, come back to my loft, please?" she requested. "Nobody's there seeing as Oliver and Will are staying at the mansion. Please Sara. I, I can't lose you a third time."

Sara sighed and nodded. "Alright," she consented. "I'll come with you."

They linked hands like they were little girls seeking comfort again, heading to Felicity's car in silence.


	24. The Saddest Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Lances reunite

**"The saddest thing about betrayal is that it never comes from your enemies... It comes from friends and loved ones." -** _Ash Sweeney_

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow. Thanks for all of the reviews, etc. Read, enjoy and review.**

**Wear masks and stay safe!**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Four**

**The Saddest Thing (About Betrayal)**

Felicity had set Sara up in her 'safehouse' in the Glades. It was a small stationary mobile home that had been purchased under a false name using money from one of her offshore accounts shortly after Felicity's return from Lian Yu. There was a small bedroom containing a bunkbed and a drawer with spare clothes, and the spare bedroom had been set up with a state-of-the-art computer system. The kitchen had some plastic cutlery and paper plates, and Felicity had loaned her old friend some money to buy supplies. There was a fully stocked, army grade medical kit in the bathroom, and spare weapons were stashed all over the place, both hidden and not.

All-in-all, it was everything Sara could ask for in a safehouse. After her release from hospital, Sin joined her. The younger girl had become close to Thea Queen and her Glades' boyfriend (and hadn't _that_ been a shock? The Queens' darling Princess not only knew someone from the Glades, but was dating him. You die for six years and the whole world goes mad). But because Sara was still hiding from her family, she had insisted that Sin keep the couple away from their new place, so her younger roommate was away from their shared home for most of the day.

Home. What a difficult word. Home wasn't this small trailer where she and Sin shared a tiny bedroom and ate pre-made dinners.

Home was her parents, arguing playfully in the kitchen of her childhood house as Quentin cooked dinner and her mom graded papers. Home was Felicity painting her nails as they chatted, or even Laurel taking full advantage of the 'older' part of 'older sister' to boss her around.

Home was lying in bed in Nanda Parbat, entwined with Nyssa's strong form.

Sara twisted the bracelet her former lover had made and given to her right before she had left around her wrist, fingers gently tracing the symbols of love, devotion and remembrance that were carved into the dark wood. Her heart ached with longing and wistfulness.

They had both known from the start that it wasn't going to last. Sara had hated everything about the League save for Nyssa herself, and had missed her family the same way an amputee would miss a limb. She had never allowed the thought of her staying to float, mentioning her plans for departure once her debt was repaid whenever someone broached the subject. And Nyssa was Heir to Ra's al-Ghul. She would never abandon her people. Ra's would never allow her to. Sara was different, an outsider who was very skilled, but not irreplaceable. She could be released, had to be released according to the agreement made between herself and the League on her induction, least the Demon's Head be accused of breaking his word. Her and Nyssa's situations were completely different.

But oh, Sara had loved that woman. She fought back the tears that wanted to fall, wincing away from the memory of Al-Owal slapping her in training when she collapsed from exhaustion. _'Tears are weakness!'_ His voice hissed in her mind. Sara Noelle Lance, Ta-er al-Sahfer was not weak. She had survived a shipwreck, over a year on the Amazo, months on that godforsaken island, and years in the League of Assassins. She was not weak, and she would not create the impression of weakness by giving into the urge to weep over her losses and pain.

What sin had she committed in her last life? Sara mused to herself, for the trillionth time. That she was cursed to so much suffering in this one?

The sound of the front door opening broke her from her bitter thoughts, and she grabbed the knife in her sleeve on instinct, bracing herself.

"Hey, anybody home?" Felicity called, her voice making the ex-assassin relax a fraction. "Sara?"

Sara sighed and hid her knife again, trotting into the other room to see her best friend placing some takeaway bags on the kitchen counter.

Felicity smiled at her warmly, though Sara could see the same worn-out bitterness in her friend's eyes as she did in the mirror. Like her, Felicity had died when the Gambit had gone down. She had been hardened and tormented by the world, and it had changed her. Damaged her. The Felicity Queen née Smoak who had returned to Starling City was not the one who had left it.

If only they had never set foot on that godforsaken boat.

"Hey," Sara greeted her friend.

"Breakfast?" Felicity offered. "I got breakfast burritos for us from Jitters."

Sara smiled softly. "Sounds good," she agreed, joining the other blonde at the small countertop, perching on a stool and nibbling away at the burrito. It was delicious, full of greasy goodness, and they ate in silence. Sara suspected she knew the source of the resolve in Felicity's bright blue eyes, but she didn't want to be the first one to acknowledge the topic. She focused on her food instead, savouring the mixture of flavours that burst on her tongue. She had travelled the world, but no place did a breakfast burrito quite the way Jitters did.

Nyssa had been a mixture of horrified and transfixed by Sara's love of greasy food. The League only served high quality Asian and Middle Eastern food, food that was specifically chosen to improve energy and keep you fit and lean. It was yet another of the many things that Sara, an unrepentant fast food junkie, had hated about the place. Every chance she got, she would stop at a fast food place and scarf down a MacDonald's burger or whatever else she could get her hands on.

It reminded her of days when her dad, who shared her addiction, who take her out making her promise to keep it a secret from Mom, who was like Laurel and preferred healthy shit like tofu and stuff like that.

Sara swallowed and shoved away thoughts of Nyssa. Her beloved belonged in the past.

_'Your past holds you back',_ one of her trainers had told her once. _'It makes you weak, and weakness is not to be tolerated. You must let it die. Kill it if you have to, but either way, you must figure out how to escape it, or it will be your downfall.'_

She had never quite managed to let go of her past, however. She had counted down the missions and days until Ra's agreed that she could be released from service. But she had always known that she would one day return to Starling and those she loved. She was never going to reunite with Nyssa, so she had to let her, and her memory, go.

"Sara," Felicity began once their burritos were finished. "We need to talk."

Sara grimaced. It seemed her guess was right, and her grace period was at last up. "What about?" She asked, blatantly procrastinating. Felicity gave her a stern look.

"You've been home for at least three months now, Sara," the archer sighed, propping her chin on her fist. "And I've known you're here and alive for a week. I can't look Quentin in the eye and keep this from him, and I can't keep putting him off about why I'm avoiding him either. If you don't go and tell him you're back, I'll drag you there myself."

Sara scoffed haughtily. "You couldn't beat me," she declared, confident in her skills. She had not been the best fighter in the League, but she had definitely stood out, especially given her late arrival to the organization.

Felicity arched an eyebrow at that. "Is that so?" She hummed, a glint in her eyes.

Sara suddenly doubted her own conviction that she would win against her friend. After all, Malcolm Merlyn, Al-Saher, had been renowned for his skills as a fighter even among the elite warriors that made up the League, yet Felicity had beaten him.

"Alright, I have an idea," Felicity declared, clapping her hands together. "The two of us'll spar. If I win, you go and speak to Quentin today. If you win, I'll let it go for the rest of the month."

Sara considered, drumming her fingers nervously on the countertop. She was torn. She had missed her family desperately, even Laurel, whom she had argued with more than they had actually talked normally with one another. For the past half-a-dozen years, the thought of coming home and being held in her father's strong embrace, feeling her mother's hands carding through her hair again, it had been the one anchor to sanity that she had. Nyssa, much as she loved her, had sometimes made things worse. Nyssa believed, wholly and fully, in the actions and goals of the League, but all Sara ever felt was sick with self-hatred and disgust at the blood that stained her hands and her soul.

But at the same time, she dreaded having to tell them the truth of what had happened to her over the past six years. How could she tell her parents that she had aided Ivo in torturing a dozen people, several of them to death? How could she confess to becoming an assassin? She still had nightmares, over a year later, of when she had slit the throat of a single father in his sleep and then left his body in his bed to be discovered by his children the next day.

They would, justifiably, be horrified and repelled by her. It was easy to say that if given the choice being doing such reprehensible things and death, you would choose death, but Sara had been too much of a coward to do so. She couldn't bear to see the loving gazes of her parents turn to disgust and horror when they realized what she had done.

"Sara?" Felicity's voice broke through her thoughts, and she realized that she must have been lost in thought for God knew how long. Well, if he had actually existed, God would probably have known, but Sara had lost any sense of faith she had years ago aboard the Amazo. If there really was some deity up there, he sure as hell didn't give a fuck about anyone on Earth.

She shook the thought away, realizing that Felicity was eyeing her with a concerned gaze, her white teeth sinking into her painted bottom lip and worrying it.

"I'm alright," Sara promised, knowing she was lying as she spoke. "Fine. Rules for the spar?"

Felicity studied her a moment longer before inclining her head in silent, if dubious, acceptance of her words. "Hand-to-hand," she stated. "First to be pinned for one minute or else to surrender loses. Avoid any broken bones or injuries to areas that can't be covered by clothes. We don't need any awkward questions, believe me. Coming up with believable excuses is a headache and a half. Especially when it comes to your dad."

Sara nodded. "Where are we doing this, then?" She asked, sliding off her stool.

"My base," Felicity replied instantly, not blinking an eyelash. "It has more than enough room."

Two and a half hours later, Sara hit the ground of the underground basement Felicity had repurposed into her headquarters. She landed flat on her stomach, letting out an instinctive groan as the wind was knocked out of her harshly. Felicity swiftly took advantage of the opening, pinning Sara's torso to the mats with her knee while holding her tightly in place by her wrists.

"Do you yield?" The vigilante of Starling City demanded sharply.

The Canary sighed and bowed her head.

"I yield," she agreed softly.

It was settled. Sara would be reunited with her family tonight.

* * *

**To: Dinah:**

_**Di, it's Quentin. We need to talk about Laurel. Can you come over tonight, please? It's urgent.** _

**To: Quentin:**

_**I'll be there at 6.** _

Felicity stared at the screens. She had hacked into Quentin's phone to send the message. Silently, she hoped that Laurel herself wouldn't be there. With the woman's erraticness lately, she had a feeling her presence wouldn't be a good idea.

"Is it done then?" Sara asked, tone terse.

"It's done," Felicity confirmed. She spun her chair around to look at her friend. The other vigilante was currently using her staff to beat the stuffing out of a training dummy. (Literally. The tip had gone through the fabric and sand was now falling out of the hole stiltedly.)

"Right," Sara mumbled. Her next hits weren't as steady or on target, hampered by the tension lining her spine that ruined her stance.

"Sara, I know this is hard for you," Felicity murmured sympathetically. "I know better than anybody else that, after everything, coming home is hard. But you need to do it."

"You don't know what I've done," Sara replied without looking back at her.

"And you don't know what I've done either," Felicity countered, mind instinctively shying away from her memories of ARGUS and the Bratva. "But you won't be free until you come home. Really come home, not just back to Starling to hover in the shadows for the rest of your life."

"It's not about _freedom_ ," Sara argued, turning back to her at last, face pale and strained. "It's about _forgiveness_. There are somethings in life that just- they can't be forgiven."

Felicity's expression softened in sympathetic understanding. "I get that," she told her friend earnestly, standing and walking over to stand beside her. "I really do, Sara." Sara met her gaze, both of them with shoulders slumped from the weight of the sins they had committed in the name of survival.

"But that's the thing about forgiveness, Sara," Felicity went on, reaching out to rest a hand on her surrogate sister's shoulder. "You can't get it until you ask for it."

"Are you saying if I asked you, you would forgive just like that?" Sara asked with a snap of her fingers. "Never mind what I did? Even if I didn't tell you what happened?"

"I would," Felicity acknowledged steadily. "But there's no point in asking me for it."

"Why not?" Sara huffed.

Felicity gave a sad smile. "Because _I'm_ not the one you need forgiveness from," she informed her gently. Just as Felicity had unconsciously needed forgiveness from Oliver and William for leaving them to become a killer, albeit against her will, Sara needed to be forgiven by her family for everything she had done before she too could begin the walking down the long road to healing from her trauma.

As it turned out, therapy _was_ useful after all, despite how wary she and Oliver had both been when they first started it.

* * *

"Di?" Quentin blinked in surprise at the sight of his ex-wife standing on his porch. "What're you doing here?"

She frowned. "You texted me, remember?" Dinah reminded him. "You said that we needed to talk about Laurel, that it was important."

Quentin frowned deeper, removing his phone and looking through his history, surprised to see she was right. "I don't remember-" he began. Just then, Felicity's Mini Cooper rolled up.

"Felicity!" He grinned when she climbed out, relieved to see her for the first time in over a week. She'd been avoiding his calls too, under the excuse of being busy with some project. He had been debating whether or not to go and check in on her. Only Oliver's assurance that she was alright had stayed him so far, but if she had continued to avoid him, he knew he would have given into his instincts and gone to see her.

"Hi, Quentin," she smiled softly at him before turning to Dinah. "Hi, Dinah."

"Hello Felicity," she nodded in response.

"I, uh, I was the one to arrange this," Felicity admitted, at the same moment as Quentin spied a figure sitting in the passenger seat. The person's features were obscured by the dark of the night, but Quentin saw enough to get a sense of familiarity from them.

"Why?" Dinah questioned her in a wary tone.

Felicity swallowed, turning to the car. "C'mon," she urged the person. "Please."

A sense of nervous anticipation filled the detective, as if his body already understood what his mind did not. His heart pounded in his ears as the passenger door opened and a small young blonde woman climbed out.

He heard a strangled cry and recognized it as his own voice. His knees buckled and he grabbed the side of the doorframe to keep from falling to all fours. In the background, he heard Dinah start to sob.

"Sara?" He croaked, staring at her. His baby girl was in front of him, blue eyes glazed with tears. "Baby girl? No, it can't be. It can't be Sara. Sara's dead."

"It's me," she insisted, stepping closer hesitantly. "It's really me, Daddy, Mom. I'm alive, I'm home."

Dinah let out a strangled cry and surged forward. Sara tensed slightly, but all her mother did was tug her into the tightest embrace possible, as if she could somehow merge their bodies and keep her child from ever leaving her arms again.

Quentin, still in shock, turned to Felicity, who was biting her bottom lip and watching them all worriedly. "Did you know?" He asked her hoarsely.

She shook her head, eyes wide and sincere. "No, no I didn't," she insisted. "I swear to God, I thought she was dead. If I had known earlier she was still alive, I'd've searched the whole world for her. I only found out last week, but she, she wasn't ready yet. I'm so sorry, I swear I didn't know."

Quentin nodded. His vision was blurry and his cheeks were damp from the tears spilling from his eyes and streaming freely down his cheeks. He paused long enough to hug his unofficially adoptive daughter and kiss her forehead before staggering over to the others. Sara pulled away from Dinah, who kept a grip on her, no doubt as terrified as Quentin that if she let go, she would wake up and discover that the miracle was a dream after all. He hesitantly reached out to touch his daughter's arm. She gave him a tremulous smile. In her sky-blue eyes, he saw shadows made from sorrow and pain, and his heart clenched as he wondered what traumas she had gone through in the years she was away for.

"My beautiful baby girl," he breathed, before pulling her and Dinah both into a tight embrace, reaching out to tug Felicity in as well.

"Thank you God," he breathed. Both of his daughters, whom he had thought dead, had survived and returned home to him and their family. It really was a miracle, one he would never, could never, take for granted.

* * *

_**Island in the North China Sea: 2009** _

_"_ _ما اسمك؟_ _?"_

_The voice broke through Sara's hazy, pain-blurred mind. It was a woman's voice, accented from someplace she didn't recognize, and brisk._

_Sara groaned and cracked open her eyes. It felt as if there were anchors attached to her eyelashes, weighing them down and keeping them closed. She managed to force them open, and after a moment her vision corrected itself, allowing her to take in the figure kneeling beside her in the sand._

_Was she still on Lian Yu, or had she drifted to another of the hundreds of islands that dotted this godforsaken sea?_

_"_ _ما اسمك؟_ _?" The woman repeated._

_She had long, dark hair with corkscrew curls, and olive skin. Her features were regal in a way that made Sara think of medieval nobility in TV shows, and her brown eyes were narrow as she studied Sara. She was dressed in a strange red and black get-up, with a quiver and bow strung across her back. Unlike the arrows Felicity carved and used, those projectiles were definitely not made of wood, but rather of metal. A knife was sheathed at her hip, and something about the way she held herself made Sara certain that the other woman was deadly with not just those weapons, but her bare hands as well. She almost made Sara think of a panther, or some other wildcat, deadly, graceful, and utterly entrancing to watch._

_Beautiful._

_"I don't understand," Sara croaked out. "I don't know what you're saying."_

_The woman frowned before replying in English. "What is your name?"_

_Sara swallowed, her throat dry and sore, before answering. "Sara. Sara Lance."_

_"I am Nyssa al-Ghul, Heir to the Demon," the woman replied proudly. Sara swallowed again, this time in fear. She didn't know what the title meant, but it didn't sound good._

_"Where am I?" Sara asked timidly._

_"You are on Zhengjiu, an island in the North China Sea," Nyssa replied. "I found you here, unconscious in the sand. You seem to have drifted here. How?"_

_Sara shrugged, letting out a hiss of pain at the movement. "The freighter, it blew up," she explained weakly. "My friend-is she here? She has blo-brunette hair and blue eyes, about my age, very tanned and thin. Her name is Felicity." Well, her hair was brunette now. Felicity grumbled about it on occasion, but survival was their priority, not looks._

_Nyssa shook her head. "I am afraid not," she answered, a hint of sympathy in her voice and eyes. Or maybe Sara was imagining it, projecting kindness out of desperation not be stuck with another Ivo. "I found only you." She fell silent a moment, eyeing Sara thoughtfully for a few moments, before giving a curt nod. She adjusted her tunic, then reached out and plucked Sara up as easily as Sara herself would lift a baby, holding her to her chest._

_"Where are you taking me?" Sara asked nervously, automatically wrapping her arms around Nyssa's neck to keep from falling. The last time a stranger had 'helped' her, it was Ivo. After everything trusting him had led to, Sara doubted she would ever properly trust anyone again._

_"To my safehouse," Nyssa informed her calmly. "I will tend to you there. You are soaked to the skin, malnourished and dehydrated, not to mention wounded. I cannot tend you here on the beach."_

_"Why?" Sara whispered. "What do you want from me?"_

_She felt Nyssa shrug. "We will see how you can repay me when you are recovered," she answered. "To have survived and explosion and floating all this way, you must be strong indeed. Such potential should not be wasted."_

_Sara wasn't reassured by the other woman's words, but she didn't dare to protest. She knew instinctively that she wouldn't be able to protect herself from Nyssa even if she were healed, and exhaustion was already pulling her back under._

_She could only hope that it wasn't another Ivo situation. If she'd still believed in God, she would've prayed to him for salvation, but she didn't, so she could only for the best and prepare herself for the worst._

* * *

Laurel was blazing with rage as she stormed into Sebastian's office.

Sara was alive. Her younger sister was _alive_. She had clearly not been stuck on island for the past couple of years the way Felicity had been, meaning the selfish bitch had simply decided to spend six years wandering around doing God-only-knew-what, uncaring of their family's heartache and grief over her supposed death. And now, after six years of being away, Sara had the goddamn nerve to come casually flouncing back into their lives as if she hadn't abandoned them.

Where the fuck had Sara been when their mom packed her things into her car and left, not even giving Laurel a phone call until she came to her convinced that Sara was alive (who the fuck knew, maybe that really had been her in that picture instead of Jen Hunt after all)? Where had she been when their dad had turned to drink to cope with his grief over the loss of his girls (never mind that Felicity wasn't even his actual daughter, or even officially adopted, and that Laurel was still there for him)? Where was she when Laurel lost her job and ended up being disbarred because she had drunk a couple of wines before driving home a few times? When the quake happened?

Laurel would've asked where her sister had been when Ollie broke up with her for what seemed to be the final time, but Sara had never approved of her and Ollie's relationship. She'd probably have been on Felicity's side, damn her. Laurel wasn't even sure if she was cursing Felicity or Sara right then. Both of them, maybe.

She stalked into her boyfriend's office, startling him, and launched into a venomous tirade against her sister before he got a chance to greet her, not even noticing the man who Sebastian had meeting with. She was so wrapped up in her rant that she didn't notice the eyepatch-wearing man discreetly slipping out of the room, a smug smirk having started to play on his lips after overhearing her cursing Felicity for her part in Sara's disappearance and subsequent return.

"God, honey, I can't believe it," Sebastian told her earnestly, cupping her cheeks. "It's-Jesus. So you're saying that she's been alive all this time?"

"Yeah, and she didn't even come home straight after the 'quake," Laurel answered bitterly. "Our family needed her, grieved for her, and all of this time, she's been alive and doing fuck knows what, not caring the slightest bit about the rest of us thinking she was dead. How selfish can she be?"

"I don't know what to say," Sebastian admitted. "It sounds like something out of some sort of novel, or television show. Hang on a minute, I'll save my work and grab my coat, then we can head back to my place, okay? We can get some takeout and talk there."

Laurel nodded, sniffing a bit and wiping her eyes. "I'll just wait in the hall for you," she told him. He nodded, leaning in to kiss her softly for a second before leaning over his computer to tap away at whatever work he had open, while Laurel went back out into the other room to wait for him.

"Hello there Ms. Lance," a man with a low, intimidating voice, greeted her. She nearly jumped out of her skin, pressing one hand to her heart and staring in shock at the tall man dressed in a suit who was smirking at her. She shivered, all of her instincts whispering that the man was dangerous.

He had dark hair laced with traces of grey, a goatee, an eyepatch and a curved scar on his face. The accessory should have made him look ridiculous, but Laurel found herself feeling terrified instead. Pirates were villains in kids' movies, but this man...something told her that this man could probably break her neck with one hand, and would smirk that sinister smirk the entire time he spent doing so.

"My name is Slade Wilson," he informed her, his grin widening at her blatant fear of him. "And I believe we have something in common."

"Wh-what's that?" Laurel asked, mentally cursing her voice for shaking.

"We both want revenge on Felicity Queen."


	25. Underground Tunnels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Smoak-Queens have some family time while Slade's plans advance

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow. Thanks to everyone reviewing, following, etc this story.**

" _See, I think there are roads that lead us to each other. But in my family, there were no roads - just underground tunnels. I think we all got lost in those underground tunnels. No, not lost. We just lived there."_  
 _―_ _ **Benjamin Alire Sáenz,**_ _ **Last Night I Sang to the Monster**_

**There's some of my Star Wars opinions coming through in the Smoak-Queen family time section, 'cause I'm reading a bunch of SW fics at the moment and am having feels.**

**Read, enjoy and review!**

**Twenty-Five**

**Lost in Underground Tunnels**

One thing that Oliver had always found a mixture of endearing and amusing about Felicity was just how intensely she felt about the shows and movies she got into. She could passionately argue and rant for hours on how this plotline didn't make sense, or that new director had completely ruined those characters, and so on, so forth. William had inherited the trait. He also had inherited his mother's opinions on many things.

In their family, the topic of Star Wars was a serious one, and should anyone be foolish enough to compliment Anakin Skywalker to her face, Felicity would, if they were lucky, kick them out of the mansion. _If_ they were lucky. Back when she was pregnant, she'd once put one of her classmates on the no-fly list for daring to say that Anakin was the best character in the franchise and should have lived. As far as Felicity was concerned, Anakin Skywalker was the devil incarnate and anyone who liked his character was unwelcome in her presence (never mind that the guy was fiction. For his own sake, Oliver supported her. That didn't mean he didn't find the whole thing hilarious, and the way Will agreed so seriously with his mother was both funny as hell and absolutely adorable.).

The Saturday three weeks before his mother's trial was due to begin, two weeks after Sara's return, the three Queens were cuddled up on the cosy sectional in the theatre room, having a Star Wars marathon. Oliver, who enjoyed the movies but didn't take them nearly as seriously as his wife and son, had mostly stayed quiet, more intent on observing the two's serious discussions about the people and plot than the movies themselves. It warmed him to see them interacting with one another, even a year after Felicity's return. For so long, he'd thought he would never see that happen, and it was a gift he was determined not to waste.

They'd started with The Phantom Menace (which was peppered with Felicity's grumblings about Qui-Gon's arrogant attitude and the stupidity of allowing a fourteen-year-old to be elected to such a high-profile position. Will had agreed "Yeah, Mommy, isn't she still meant to be in school? She's only six years older than me in this, and I'll only be in eighth grade!"), then Attack of the Clones, during which Will had questioned Padmé's sudden change of heart regarding Anakin. ("I don't get it. Earlier she said they couldn't be together and now she says she loves him? Mommy, Daddy, I don't get it.")

They treated their son the way he deserved given his high IQ and maturity, so Felicity hadn't simply danced around his questions and given a sugar-coated reply. Instead, she had seriously suggested that Anakin was using the Force to manipulate Padmé into loving him, or else that the adrenaline of almost dying and the knowledge that they were now at war had caused them to rush into commitment making without really spending time together getting to know each other properly. While watching Revenge of the Sith, Felicity had taken the opportunity to advice Will against that sort of thing. ("You want to make sure that you only marry a person you really love and respect, Baby," she had urged him, Oliver nodding in support. "And someone who's opinions you respect too. Even if you disagree with some of them, or don't fully agree, you shouldn't marry someone you're incompatible with.")

Felicity adored the Original Trilogy (save for Vader being redeemed at the end. She believed it was a bad message to send-commit genocide but if you feel badly be forgiven. "And that's _if_ he really regrets turning Dark," she had pointed out animatedly to him once, years ago when they were still dating. "It never explicitly says so, he just intervenes to save his son's life."), so most of it was spent laughing and agreeing with the characters. They were mid-way through The Empire Strikes Back, listening to the famous "do or do not, there is no try" line from Yoda (one of Felicity's favourite characters in the series, tied with Obi-Wan and Luke, and Will's outright favourite due to him looking and sounding funny), when they realized that their son had fallen asleep clutching his stuffed Yoda. He always had the toy with him when watching Star Wars, though by now it was faded and worn from so many years and washes.

Sara had bought it for him when she came to see Felicity after Will was born, and it was one of his favourite stuffed toys to this day, though not the actual favourite (actually, Oliver didn't think his son had a favourite toy. Maybe the miniature, working Mars Rover he had proudly built and showed off to the family. He was his mother's son.). It was a much-treasured possession, especially when it had been the main reminder of Will's believed deceased godmother.

"I'll carry him up to bed," Oliver whispered to his wife, who nodded, extracting herself carefully before leaning down to press a feather-light kiss to the child's forehead, taking care not to disturb him. Oliver couldn't pull his gaze away from the scene if he had wanted to. It always astounded him to know that Felicity could break the neck of a man three times her slim size with a single jerk, hit the centre of a target from a mile away and decapitate an opponent without so much as chipping her nails, yet she handled their son with such care. The dichotomy of it had been difficult to reconcile at first, yet gradually it had become just another reason to love her.

He carried to sleeping boy upstairs to his bedroom and tucked him in before heading back down to find Felicity clearing up the theatre room, dusting popcorn crumbs into the bucket to be dumped, the 65" screen switched off and the DVD returned to its case. Oliver joined in the tidying silently, replacing the boxes in their places on the shelf and helping double-check for any sweet wrappers or such scattered around the place. It wasn't something he'd have thought to do before meeting Felicity, who took for granted that you cleaned up your own mess.

"Bed?" He asked her after they were done. She gave a tired smile and nodded.

"Sounds good," she agreed, stepping closer so they could kiss lightly but intensely.

"I love you," he sighed after they ended the kiss, leaning his forehead against hers. She smiled back lovingly, for once bereft of the stress and sorrow that had darkened her gaze since her return from Lian Yu.

"I love you too," she responded.

* * *

Sara sighed after hanging up her cell, ending the call with Felicity. Her friend was off to Russia with Oliver and Diggle in order to save Dig's friend. They'd be gone for a few days at least, as their cover was that Oliver was meeting with his Moscow subsidiary, meaning he would actually have to meet up with them. Defending the city would therefore fall to Sara alone for the rest of the week, and she had agreed to dress up as Artemis so nobody would realize that Felicity was gone and try to take advantage of the vigilante's absence, or else start putting two and two together and notice that Artemis and Felicity were one in the same. Sara wasn't remotely in Felicity's league when it came to archery, but she was still a damn good shot. The League did not allow any of their members, temporary or permanent, to be less than fantastic with every type of weapon they used, and many they didn't.

She lost herself in planning how to do her patrols around the Glades without her parents getting suspicious. The two of them hated her being out of their sight, and when they did leave her, they inevitably ended up ringing her to check she was alright. Her mom was sleeping in Laurel's room while her sister was staying with her boyfriend for the moment, though Dinah's leave was about ready to run out, at which time she would have to return to her job at Central City University.

Sara couldn't deny it would be a bit of a relief for her mother to return to Central City, close as they were. She loved her parents, she would never take them for granted again after the pain of being away from them for so long, but their smothering attention was difficult to handle after so long with only Nyssa touching her kindly, or even paying her attention outside of orders. Even then, her former lover had not been one for demonstrative love or PDA. Nothing that could be used as a weakness by those in the League wishing to replace her as Ra's' heir. Touching was reserved solely for the privacy of their room or else for extremely close saves.

"Sara," a curt voice interrupted her thoughts and making her stiffen.

_'Stupid little girl'_ Al-Owal's voice chided her for getting so absorbed in her thoughts she had failed to detect the other woman's approach. _'Letting a civilian catch you by surprise. No wonder Ra's agreed to you leaving service. You are_ _ **weak**_ _.'_

_'Rot in hell you bastard,'_ she thought back bitterly before she shoved the malicious voice away and forced a wary, hesitant smile of greeting at her older sister. Laurel returned the look with a stony expression, anger glinting in her dark eyes and radiating from her body language. Her expression was composed, but even if Sara weren't her sister, she could see the minute tells giving Laurel's anger away. Evidently, her anger at Sara had not cooled down over the weeks since their reunion.

"Hey, Laurel," Sara greeted her warily. "Uhm, how's it going?"

Laurel sniffed. "I'm fine," she replied curtly, not returning the question. "I'm just here to pick something up," she explained briskly, walking past Sara towards her bedroom door.

"I-uh, right," Sara stammered uncharacteristically. She wrapped her arms around her middle in a protective embrace, her battered heart aching at her sister's clear anger towards her. The words Laurel had flung at her venomously when they reunited echoed in her mind, each one more painful than a dagger.

_"You're the reason Mom and Dad divorced, the reason Dad became an alcoholic who_ _**I** _ _had to look after! You're so selfish, you let us grieve for you for years while you pranced around doing God knows what with God knows who! You're the one who introduced Ollie to Felicity and wrecked my relationship with him! Everything bad that has happened to this family is all your fault!"_

Sara had been unable to find the words to defend herself. Nothing she said was wrong, after all, even if the context could be argued. Their parents had intervened, and Laurel had ended up storming out. That was the last time that Sara had seen her. Dinah had insisted that Laurel didn't mean it, she was simply overwhelmed and already struggling with grief and probable PTSD from the Undertaking, but Sara had had her doubts. Doubts that were confirmed by Laurel's cold attitude towards her today.

She meant every word she said.

The sound of the front door closing drew her attention, and she headed downstairs to meet her father, who was hauling several bulging bags of groceries. In a sharp contrast to Laurel, he grinned widely and broadly the moment that he laid eyes on her, gesturing for an embrace with one hand. She hastened over and hugged him tightly, burying her head in the crook of his shoulder and exhaling unsteadily. At least her parents didn't hate her for surviving and coming home, even despite the turmoil she had caused them over the years. They were unwavering in their love and care, and doing their best to help her without pressuring her to talk before she was ready, despite both of them having spied and been horrified by her scars.

"Hey, what's wrong, sweetheart?" He questioned her gently. She shrugged as she pulled away, giving a weak smile that she knew failed to reach her eyes.

"Laurel's here, and, uhm, she clearly still isn't too pleased with me being home," she explained softly. He frowned, grimacing as he put down the grocery bags on the table before cupping her cheek with one hand.

"Just give her time, honey," he urged. "Your sister loves you. She's struggling personally at the moment and you're an easy target to lash out at, that's all. She loves you, she really does."

"Yeah," Sara mumbled. "Right."

Laurel appeared in the doorway then before he could respond, with a well-made, professional dress suit hanging over her arm. She blatantly ignored Sara's presence to focus on Quentin. "Hey, Dad," she smiled at him. He smiled back, heading over to hug her.

"Hey sweetheart, how's it going?" He asked cheerfully, kissing her cheek.

"Great, actually," she replied. "I have an interview with DA Spencer this afternoon about a job!"

"That's fantastic!" Quentin exclaimed.

"Yeah, congratulations Laurel," Sara added with the sincerest smile she could muster towards her sister. Currently, Sara wasn't working herself. Once all the legal stuff had been dealt with, she hoped to apply to SCU and finish her degree. Then she would join Felicity in running SCT, the way they had long since planned.

As a child, she had bounced from one job prospect to the other, as kids did. One day she wanted to be a doctor, the next a cop like her father, and so on, so forth. She and Felicity had been fourteen when they'd conceived the idea of Smoaking Canary Technologies, and it had become their baby, the two of them writing down ideas for products and adds, stashing away any extra cents and all. Anything to bring them a step closer to fulfilling their ambitions. It stung to know she had missed Felicity opening it, but that her best friend had kept it so close to their dream, from the logo Sara had drawn in art class at sixteen to the idea for her Lance Learner, aka the Lancer, soothed that ache somewhat.

"Thanks Dad," Laurel responded, ignoring Sara completely. She also ignored the disapproving look that Quentin shot at her for it. "I was thinking. Things with Sebastian are going well. I want you and Mom to meet him. Could we have a family dinner at his place this week, before she heads back to Central City?"

Sara exhaled shakily through her nose, looking down at the tiled kitchen floor to hide the hurt she felt. It hadn't escaped her notice that Laurel had deliberately excluded her from the invite. She forced on a mask of indifference as she began unpacking the groceries. "Sounds like it would be fun, Dad," she told him as casually as she could when she noticed him hesitating, glancing between her and Laurel worriedly. "You should go. You know how much you love terrorizing our boyfriends."

"Alright honeys," he agreed in a soft voice. Sara felt a stab of resentment towards Laurel for putting that pained look in his eyes. Her poor parents were wonderful people. They didn't deserve all the pain their daughters had given them.

It was why she was dancing around the topic of where she'd been and what she'd been doing since their reunion. They wouldn't just be horrified by her actions, but the knowledge of the torture she had gone through would doubtlessly break their hearts as well. She had seen the looks on their faces when they caught a glimpse of one of her scars when her shirt had rode up, and she had no desire to make things worse.

She had put them through so much already, she just couldn't bring herself to add to it, nor was she brave enough to risk them recoiling from her when they heard about her time in the League. The kindest thing that she could do for them was pretend as much as possible to be the old, fun-loving and flirtatious firecracker of a girl she had once been. It was the least she could for them, even if it meant suffering through her memories alone. Worst came to worst, she could at least turn to Felicity. If anyone would understand, it was her.

She just wasn't ready yet.

* * *

_**Russia: Spring, 2013** _

_Ta-er al-Sahfer crouched on the rooftop across the road from her current target's house. The Target was a member of the Russian government, a husband with two children, a boy named Nicholas and a girl named Natasha. Twins. The man himself was an important financial supporter of the current Prime Minister, Vladimir Putin, and the League had been hired to take him out, along with several others in favour of Putin's policies, in the hopes of crippling Putin's power, or at least denting it._

_This was a mission like any other in every way except for one._

_She refused to think of it, instead focusing on the mission. It was dark inside the house, the sky was black and obscured by heavy clouds that heralded rain, and in various areas of the city she could see the smoke signals sent up by the others, saying they were now moving to eliminate their respective targets. She touched her lighter to the small bonfire she had set up in a bin, sending up her own signal to confirm she was about to move._

_That done, she exhaled and grasped her crossbow, shooting a rappelling hook to the roof across before using her staff to zipline across. Then she climbed down the chimney into the house. It was a Pre-October Revolution era building, and had a large chimney and wide fireplace, large enough for her to climb down using two small hooks for grip. They also kept it astonishingly clean. Once she was inside, she paused long enough to dust off her boots ('Never leave any trace of your presence' was something that Al-Owal had reinforced a million times both during and after her training), then set about completing her mission._

_She stole upstairs, passing by the two children's rooms (Sara Lance felt her stomach twist painfully at the knowledge that she was stealing a father from two little children. Ta-er al-Safer was simply concerned with making sure they didn't wake up and sound the alarm. Not only were there the parents, but several servants and a live-in nanny also resided in the house. Waking any of them could lead to trouble. This was meant to be a discreetly done job, nobody save for Aliyev himself being killed.), then the guest room before at last she reached the door to the master bedroom._

_She reached out a glove-covered hand to turn the old-fashioned doorknob and quietly open the door, careful to avoid it squeaking. Inside was a large room containing two dressers made of oak with silver handles, a matching wardrobe and vanity, a door that led to the en-suite bathroom and finally, the bed._

_There were two forms curled up in the bed, and Ta-er al-Safer was displeased to see that they were closely entangled. It would make it harder to eliminate her target without disturbing his wife. She would have to separate them somehow, without disturbing either. In the back of her mind,_

_Sara Lance shuddered mentally in guilt as she pictured the woman waking up to see her husband's dead body._

_Ta-er al-Safer walked closer, her feet ghosting over the carpet. She pulled her knife out of its' sheath and flipped it to get a better grip. She paused at the bedside, squinting to see the couple better. She noted that her target's carotid artery was in her line of sight, and accessible to her reach. She would be able to kill him quickly, then. It was simply a matter of ensuring that the blood flow wouldn't wake up his wife._

_Ta-er al-Safer worked fast, slicing the carotid artery too fast for the man to register that anything was happening. She gripped his shoulder and twisted him so he fell onto his back, the blood soaking the pillow and bed. However, his wife remained oblivious to his death, simply adjusting herself to lay her head on his chest and continuing to sleep peacefully._

_The mission over, Ta-er al-Safer turned and slipped away, retracing her steps until she reached the chimney and climbing back up to the roof before again zipping to the other roof and then cutting the rope. The rain was pouring down heavily, erasing any evidence of her presence that she didn't destroy herself._

_Once she was safely away from the sight of her most recent murder, halfway to the rendezvous point, Sara collapsed to her knees on the ground of an alleyway and let out a mixture of a sob and a laugh._

_One hundred days had been spent healing her, and she had sworn to complete a hundred missions in return for the League saving her life._

_Mikhail Aliyev had been her one hundredth mission._

_She was free. She was finally free to leave the League and Nanda Parbat, and return to Starling City and her family._

_She wept, and she wasn't quite sure if it was from relief or fear at the unknown future laying at her feet._

* * *

Laurel left the meeting with Kate Spencer pleased at how well it had gone. The DA had been reluctant to rehire her, but Laurel had persuaded her, using the folder Wilson had slipped to her discreetly. It was full of incriminating information that would see a permanent end to Spencer's career should any of the secrets within come to light.

As a result of her persuasion (she refused to consider it blackmail. Only bad people used blackmail to get their way, and Laurel wasn't a bad person. She was simply using the resources she had available to right an injustice. Losing her job had been unfair and cruel, and this was the least of what the city owed her after she had spent years slaving away at CNRI for minimal pay to help the people of the Glades.) she was now an employee of the Starling City District Attorney's office. To put the cherry on top of her victory, she had been named as second chair for the Moira Queen case, the current most high-profile case being prosecuted in the state.

Due to motions lodged by the Queen's legal team, the jury and the judge were all from other cities in the state. The judge was from Seattle, and specialized in high-profile cases, and the jury members were all from various cities, and all were completely unconnected to Starling. The defence team had argued to the State District Attorney that Moira had a right to an unbiased judge and jury, and if any of the jury members were from or related to someone from Starling, they would be biased against their client. Even people who avoided the Glades like the plague had been affected by the quake, what with the economic backlash and the riots and protests that had raged throughout the city in the aftermath.

It wouldn't be a slam-dunk case, Laurel knew. The defence team would play up the 'frightened mother and grandmother seeking to protect her family from her husband and daughter-in-law's murderer' like crazy, and the jury members wouldn't have seen the devastation caused by the Undertaking, especially as so much of the Glades had been rebuilt. And of course, the Queens and Tommy Merlyn had donated heavily to relief efforts, which would look good to them.

But Laurel would win, and she would make sure everyone saw the Queens as the scheming, faithless traitors they were. Then, she would have the satisfaction of seeing the remainders of their lives collapse when Wilson's plan came to fruition.

Her phone buzzed as she daydreamed of Felicity and Oliver seeing their lives collapse into ruins the way hers had, and she huffed in irritation, pulling out her cell. She hesitated for a second at the sight of the caller ID: S.W.

Wilson frightened her more than she wanted to admit. They shared a mutual goal of destroying Felicity's happiness, but there was a look in his dark eyes that made her doubt his sanity.

Still, he frightened her too much for her to not do what he wanted, so she pressed the answer button and raised the phone to her ear.

_"Ms. Lance, congratulations on your new job,"_ he drawled in greeting. Laurel suppressed a shiver of discomfort. She was literally just leaving the DA's office, how had he found out already? Did he have the place bugged for some reason? Or was he having her followed?

"Mr. Wilson, thank you," she responded politely. "Is there anything else you wanted? I doubt you're calling me just to say congratulations to me."

_"True,"_ he acknowledged easily. _"I have some good news about our project."_

"Oh?"

_"Yes,"_ he confirmed. She practically hear his smirk. _"I'm pleased to inform you that we have finally had the first successful operation. Brother Gold successfully survived ingesting the serum, and is already showing signs of improved strength. With his contribution, we will be able to increase our operation. We are on course to the finish line."_

"That's wonderful," Laurel said breathlessly, even as unease twisted her gut. She still couldn't understand how injecting a bunch of people with some sort of super serum that made her think of the Captain America films Marvel made would help them ruin Felicity's life. She understood Rochev being assigned to bring down Queen Consolidated, but that wasn't something that would hurt innocents. Their accounts, yes, but they'd get new jobs.

The Mirakuru was something very different, and Laurel had her fears about what it would do. Yet she was in too deep to escape now, and she truly did want to make Felicity pay. To make her hurt the way Laurel had been hurting for so long now. Uneasy as the Mirakuru operation made her, she would put up with that discomfort to get her revenge.


	26. Wealthy and Honoured

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moira's trial

" **To be wealthy and honoured in an unjust society is a disgrace."**  
― **Confucius,** **The Analects (Very Starling City elite, no?)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow. Thanks to everyone enjoying this. Judge Hankerson is the judge who condemned Barry in the Flash, and I used his actor's name as his Christian one. I know nothing about trials, this is all creative licence and canon-inspired. The bits on Moira and Robert's families (the names of their parents and those of Moira's brothers plus their attitudes all come from the Earth 27 wiki.)**

**Read, enjoy and review!**

**Chapter Twenty-Six**

**Wealthy and Honoured**

Felicity knelt down in front of William to kiss his forehead and smile softly at him as she brushed a lock of hair out of his bangs.

"I don't understand why I can't come and see Nana," he complained. "And why'm I staying home from school with Raisa? I'm not sick."

"You can't come because only adults are allowed in the courthouse," Felicity explained. And because Moira had specifically requested that her grandson be kept away from her while she was in prison and being tried, not wanting the young boy to remember her that way if she was found guilty and sentenced to death. "And you're staying home from school to keep Raisa company while the rest of us are busy. She's been feeling lonely. You don't want her to be sad, do you?" That one was an out and out lie to make him feel better, but there was no way that they could risk sending him into the school today, despite Will being one of those rare kids who enjoyed going to school, same as Felicity had been when she was a kid.

Tempers had flared back up again as Moira's trial approached, with literal mobs armed with posters and signs forming in front of Queen Consolidated and Verdant, and even outside the free clinic where Tommy and Aly worked. Tommy was getting less of the impact, given that he had changed his name to Aly's surname and was keeping his head down and out of the media, but he had still been the victim of quite a few attacks and slurs. No way were she and Oliver going to let their son leave the safety of the mansion's grounds and risk him being hurt or worse by an angry and grieving Glades resident.

"No," Will sighed, pouting unhappily. "When'll you two be home?"

"We'll come back for lunch," Oliver replied, entering the room as he buttoned up his suit jacket. "And then we'll hopefully be back in time for dinner. I'm thinking we have pizza, just this once?"

Will's eyes lit up in excitement at the suggestion of the rare treat. He liked it all the more because, when they had pizza they made it from scratch, rather than ordering it from Mario's or one of the other pizzerias in the city. It was different, and to children, _different_ was equal to _fun_. As was getting messy with permission.

"Yeah!" He exclaimed. "Will Nana be with you? I haven't seen her in _ages!_ "

She exchanged a loaded look with her husband. "Maybe," she answered vaguely after a second, rising to her feet before Will could press for clarification. "I'm sorry, baby, but we gotta go now or we'll be late. We'll see you at lunchtime, okay?"

"Okay," Will sighed in response before throwing his slim arms around her waist. "Love you Mommy."

She smiled lovingly down at him. God, she had the sweetest child on earth. "I love you too, William," she answered, kissing the top of his head and running a hand over his back before he released her and went over to embrace his father and also murmur his goodbyes and declarations of love that Oliver returned, a hint of the worried tension in his blue eyes lightening a bit as he echoed Felicity's own response.

* * *

Sara had joined them, Thea, Roy and Dig at the courthouse, a guilty expression on her face. Felicity noticed automatically that she was leaning slightly on her left leg, leaving herself more vulnerable to having her legs swept out from beneath her. She'd injured her leg while they were in Russia rescuing Dig's ex-wife-turned-girlfriend Lyla from a gulag with Anatoly's help. Sara had kindly gone out patrolling in the guise of Artemis, and stumbled across Count Vertigo, who had escaped during the Undertaking. The insane drug lord had been planning on poisoning the city by lacing the flu vaccines with a new version of his beloved vertigo. Unfortunately for him, Sara had overheard his plan and taken him and his operation out, but she'd been stabbed with a scalpel in her right thigh during the fight, resulting in a slight limp.

It could've been far worse however, and she'd taken out the operation without killing anybody, while Cecil Adams a.k.a The Count had been returned to Iron Heights Prison with both of his legs broken in multiple places and a mangled wrist that was unlikely to ever be fully healed given Iron Heights' lack of interest in healing their inmates' injuries properly. They certainly weren't going to waste money on physiotherapy for _him_ of all people.

"Ollie, Felicity, I'm so sorry," she greeted them with an upset tone. "Dad just told me this morning. Laurel is second chair for the prosecution."

Oliver inhaled sharply while Felicity scowled, a Japanese word that had the tone of a swear slipping from her lips as she clenched her fists. They hadn't heard about that.

"Can they do that?" Dig frowned. "Given that Laurel was engaged to Moira's son? Isn't it a conflict of interest?"

Sara shrugged helplessly. "I don't know," she stated. "I'm really sorry."

"Not your fault, Sara," Felicity sighed, mouth twisted unhappily. "Come on, we'd better get inside."

They entered and took seats in the front row, just behind Moira and Jean. The moment they were seated Oliver leaned forward to whisper to Jean.

"Laurel is the prosecution's second chair," he revealed. "Can you object on grounds of conflict of interest?"

"It's too late," she replied in a low tone. "If I'd known earlier I could've, but they hid it and now it's too late."

"Damn it," Oliver swore.

"I might be able to use it to discredit her, though," Jean went on. "Given you split up with her and she's known to have a grudge against your family on that grounds. Let me see how it goes."

"Alright," Oliver sighed, settling back against the back of the bench. Felicity reached out to grasp his hand supportively, rubbing her thumb over the back of his hand comfortingly.

"Your mom is innocent, Oliver," she murmured. "The jury will recognize that. The evidence will show she was trying to protect her family. She'll be okay."

He nodded tensely, stomach sick with nerves. If Moira was found guilty, she could receive the death penalty for the crime. It terrified him. His family had been through so much in the past years, losing her would be the last straw and Oliver knew it. At his side, with Roy on her far side, Thea was pale, digging her nails so hard into Roy's hand that tiny pinpricks of blood welled up, though he said nothing, his other arm draped over her shoulders supportively. Despite hating the thought of his baby sister being with anybody, Oliver appreciated Roy for that. His steady support for Thea over the past couple of months had done wonders in getting Oliver to like the guy.

The Judge entered and took his place as the bailiff announced him.

"All rise for the Honourable Judge Kenneth Hankerson!" He barked, making the audience rise to their feet. The judge was a respected Central City judge, having held his post since 1988, about twenty-four years, and was known rigid in his morals, never accepting a bribe and leveraging heavy penalties towards anybody who tried to corrupt him. He was a candidate for the Supreme Court next time a spot opened up.

He hadn't refused Moira's bail, but he had set it far too high for them to risk given their current finances and expectations for being fined. Oliver and Thea had wanted to do it anyway, and Felicity had been inclined to do so as well, but Moira had insisted they not do so, saying they were better off keeping the money in reserve for later.

Truthfully, Felicity was pretty sure that Moira didn't expect to be found not guilty. She might not even want to. Felicity of all people knew what guilt did to a person, how it ate away at your soul and allowed depression to take over your mind. She saw the look of a walking dead woman who had accepted her fate in Moira's blue eyes, and it frightened her. Was she even planning on really trying to live through this?

"Be seated," Judge Hankerson stated, gesturing for them to sit.

"Docket ending 4587, State versus Moira Queen," the bailiff informed him, handing over the ticket. Hankerson nodded.

"Very well. The prosecution may present their opening arguments," he announced.

DA Adam Donner, the first chair, rose to his feet and strode to the front of the room, turning himself to be facing the jury and audience. He pointed a remote at the TV screen set up in the corner and clicked it on, revealing Moira's press conference to announce the Undertaking.

_"...have been complicit in an undertaking with one horrible purpose- to destroy the Glades and everyone in it,"_ he paused the scene there.

"And it worked," he stated, looking towards the jury as he paced before their box. "The Glades were destroyed. Homes and lives were lost. All because of her actions. True, she had second thoughts; Remorse which compelled her to deliver this statement. But on behalf of the five hundred and three lives that were extinguished that day, I say, Moira Queen, your remorse comes too late." As he addressed her, he spun on his heel to point accusingly at the blonde woman, who bowed her head. Oliver reached out his free hand to rest it on her shoulder in comfort, shooting a vicious glare at the prosecutor.

Felicity hated to give a compliment to an opponent, but credit where credit was due. The guy was a good speaker. The jury were certainly impressed, to her dismay.

"Mr. Donner, please take your seat," Judge Hankerson, his expression blank, ordered. "Ms. Loring, the defence may present your opening arguments."

"Thank you, Your Honour," Jean replied respectfully as she rose to her feet and strode to the centre of the room, taking the remote and fidgeting with it for several moments until it played again from the beginning.

_"_ _For the last five years, under the threat for my life and the lives of my family..."_

Jean turned away after pausing the screen. "Why wouldn't those threats silence her?" She asked. "Why wouldn't Moira Queen be terrified? Malcolm Merlyn killed her first husband, abducted her second. His actions caused her daughter-in-law to be stranded on a deserted island for five years, leaving her grandson to grow up without his mother and her son broken-hearted by the dual losses of his wife and father. Why wouldn't she be in fear for her life? For the lives of her family? What would you do? If it were your children in the crosshairs of a mad man's rage?"

Jean was good too. The jury members' expressions softened as they looked towards Moira, who had an uncharacteristically small air to her, shoulders slumped and hands clasped together, complexion pale despite her make up. It was a change from her usual attitude, and Felicity quietly wondered how much was real, and how much was put on to gain sympathy. Oh, Felicity had no doubt that Moira was afraid of the outcome of the trial, and that she was deeply remorseful over her actions during the time leading up to the Undertaking. But she also had no doubt that the older woman would be well able to hide those emotions if she tried, having grown up doing the PR dance.

"Ms. Loring, the defence will present their case," Judge Hankerson, who was frustratingly inscrutable, declared once Jean had made it clear that she was finished her opening arguments.

"My thanks, Your Honour," Jean repeated. "First, I wish to show evidence of Malcolm Merlyn's threats and danger towards not just the Queen family, but even his own. I call Thomas Jackson to the stand."

/\\\\\

Tommy took his seat after being sworn in by the bailiff, and Jean Loring stepped up to the box to stand before him. She flashed him a reassuring smile as she began her questioning.

"Doctor Jackson, you were born Thomas Merlyn, son of Rebecca and Malcolm Merlyn, correct?" She asked.

He nodded, grimacing. "Yes, I was," he confirmed. "After the Undertaking, however, I married my wife, Alyssa, and took her name. I didn't want anything to do with Malcolm, nor do I want our children to be linked with that son of a bitch."

"What was your relationship with your father life before the Undertaking, Doctor?"

He took a deep breath, seeking out Aly's loving and supportive gaze in the watching crowd before replying. "When I was a little kid, my dad was great. Very involved, very loving. A real family guy. Then my mom was murdered by some scumbag in the Glades, and he, he changed. He disappeared for several years, left me to be raised by the mansion staff. The day of the Undertaking, he told me that he went to a place named Nanda Parbat where he was taught how to fight. How to _kill._ He said that was where he was inspired to cause the Undertaking. When he came back he was different. Not the dad I remembered. He was harsh. Not physically, but emotionally. Nothing was ever good enough for him, and he frequently told me how much of a failure I was. How disappointed my mom would have been in me. How disappointed _he_ was in the man I had become."

"What happened the day of the Undertaking, Tommy?" Jean asked gently.

"Malcolm asked me to come over to MGG to speak to him," Tommy said. "I figured that the Vigilante's attack on him had shaken him up, and... however difficult our relationship was, he was still my father. I didn't want him to be hurt. So I went. While I was there, Moira's press conference came on.

Malcolm was enraged. He threw the desk, slammed his fist into the wall. I demanded to know if it was true. If he'd really done what she claimed. Really killed those people, people I'd known my entire life. He admitted it. Then he, he made me listen to a voicemail my mom had left him while she was dying. Told me he'd listened to it over and over after learning she was dead. I think it must've made him snap. He was ranting, saying that everyone in the Glades had to die for what happened to her. Justifying his insanity by saying he was doing it for her."

He clenched his nails into his palms in rage at the thought. His mom had been the gentlest woman alive, so compassionate and giving. It disgusted Tommy to think that his father (God, their relation made him sick) tried to use her to excuse his brutal slaughter of hundreds of innocent people, people she had spent her life trying to help.

"Then the SWAT team arrived," Tommy went on. He described it all, how his father had murdered them with terrifying ease before turning on Tommy when he aimed the gun. How he'd plucked the gun from Tommy's hand and beaten him, leaving lying half-conscious in the corner as he dashed off. How 'Artemis' had arrived and checked him over before going to confront Malcolm while Tommy limped off to find his family, who lived close to the Glades before heading with Aly to the hospital to help tend the injured.

Then, as he wrapped up his story, Tommy took initiative and turned to the jury box. "My father was insane, a monster," he told them with utmost seriousness. "He had no qualms or remorse about killing anybody who got in his way. If I'd tried harder to stop him, he wouldn't just have beaten me unconscious, he'd have killed me and not batted an eyelash. He had no regret about murdering Robert Queen, his so-called best friend and my godfather along with half-a-dozen others including a twenty-year-old girl, no remorse for the trauma that Felicity Queen went through and the fact that her son spent the first years of his life without a mother, that Oliver, whom he'd known since he was a baby, went through the same as Malcom did on losing Mom.

I have absolutely no doubt that, if he thought she would try to defy him, he'd have made Moira watch as he killed her children and grandson before killing her too. If I had been in her shoes and it was Aly and my stepchildren being threatened, I don't think I would have been strong enough to speak out about what he'd done, even at the last minute."

* * *

_**Starling General Hospital: May 16, 1985** _

_Moira Dearden, doted on only daughter of the affluent Dearden family, which had roots going back almost two centuries, married Robert Queen, the new CEO of the up and coming tech company Queen Industries, established by his father Jonas when Robert was a child and one of the so-called 'nouveau riche' when she was twenty years old. It was a business marriage._

_Moira liked her husband well enough, but their marriage was arranged by their parents to merge the failing Dearden Consolidated and upcoming Queen Industries, creating 'Queen Consolidated' in their place. It was a way for the Deardens to avoid the shame of having to declare bankruptcy, as DC was unable to adjust to the changing times and was on the verge of failing entirely, while QI was, with Robert at the helm, going from a small, Washington-based company to a multi-national one, with their first foreign subsidiary having just opened in London._

_Soon after their honeymoon (a cruise on Robert's private yacht all around the world that created Moira's hatred of boats after a storm near the end of their trip gave her a concussion when a picture frame hit the back of her head after not being secured properly), Moira learned that she was pregnant. The day her son moved within her for the first time, Moira fell in love for the first time. The look of radiant happiness on Robert's expression when she revealed her pregnancy turned her feelings from friendship to love for him too, even if it never changed to her being_ _**in** _ _love with him._

_Their families were delighted too._

_Moira had three brothers: Patrick Junior, James 'Jimmy' and Liam Dearden. Patrick was, to be blunt, a wastrel who had died in a car crash while drunk (in later years, while Oliver and Thea were both going through their respective drug and alcohol phases, Moira would think of Patrick and breathe a deep sigh of relief when both of her children snapped out of their spirals before following their late uncle into the grave), while Jimmy was a free spirit who travelled and never managed to stay still more than a month at a time, and Liam was deep in gambling debts (which was a huge part of why their family had begun to struggle financially. At least, in comparison to how they used to be, they were struggling.)._

_Moira, on the other hand, was the exact opposite of her brothers, and her parents, Patrick Senior and Susanna, relied on her impeccable reputation to keep a lid on her brothers' activities. The pair saw their daughter's marriage and coming child as a way to wipe the slate clean in the eyes of the media, and restore the prominence of the Dearden family name (conveniently forgetting that the two were Queens, not Deardens)._

_Meanwhile, the humbler Jonas and Theodora Queen, who had come from middle-class origins and established their money and the new family business through saving, hard work and careful investment (plus their daughter-in-law's inheritance), were simply happy to have a grandchild to dote on. They'd been wary of Patrick's suggestion of their children marrying for the sake of the businesses, but it had turned out well. Robert was still as much of a ladies' man as he'd been before his marriage, but he was discreet about it, and in his own way, he did love Moira._

_He loved her even more for carrying and giving birth to his son._

_They put careful thought into names for their child. It was only right and proper that they pick Jonas for his middle name, after Robert's father who had started their family's climb, but his first name was more difficult to choose. More than once, Patrick Snr. and Susanna dropped subtle (and some not so subtle) hints that they should honour Moira's own father as well, but Moira didn't want to. In most respects she bent to her parents' will, ever the dutiful daughter, but giving her son the name of her father and eldest brother, the brother who had gotten himself (along with an innocent bystander, whose death had been covered up by the family with help from a hefty settlement to the man's family) was not to her taste._

_Finally, on May 16_ _th_ _, 1985, after sixteen hours' worth of labour (helped by the copious amount of drugs Moira received in her private room at Starling General Hospital), Moira and Robert's son came into the world._

_The nurse, a smiling woman named Alicia Bray, helped Robert, who looked almost teary with happiness, snip the umbilical cord before he carried the tiny bundle over to where Moira was eagerly waiting._

_"Look at him, Moira," Robert said gruffly. "Isn't he amazing?"_

_"He's beautiful," she breathed in response, her eyes fixed on the bundle as tears fell freely down her cheeks. "Hello darling. Hello, my beautiful baby boy. I'm your mama."_

_While they were entranced with their son, their parents had been allowed into the room by the nurse._

_"Oh, is that my grandbaby?" Theodora squealed excitedly. "Let me see! Oh, it's a boy! Oh, isn't he just the most precious thing you've ever seen?"_

_"He really is," Moira agreed totally with her mother-in-law, whose displays of exuberance she usually disliked._

_"Well done, Moira dear," Susanna declared, a pleased smile resting on her usually frowning lips._

_"Aye, well done," Jonas agreed._

_"What name did you choose, then?" Patrick asked, studying his grandson critically._

_"Mom, Dad, Patrick, Susanna," Robert said, taking their son from Moira's arms and adjusting him to show off the tiny face to his grandparents. "Meet Oliver Jonas Queen."_

_He was passed around to everyone and cooed over. Moira waited impatiently until he was at last returned to her arms. Everyone said their goodbyes, leaving her to rest, and Robert kissed her and ran a thumb over Oliver's tiny cheek, still looking amazed by the tiny being they had created together, and at long last she was left alone with her baby boy._

_He snuffled and squirmed, getting comfortable in her arms and curling closer to her chest, nestling his head against her heart. Staring down at his red face, Moira Queen knew all the way down to her bones that, if it came to that, she would raze the world to the ground to protect her baby boy, and never regret it for a second so long as he was healthy and happy._

_If all she ever did in her life was bring her child into the world, it would be a life well spent._

* * *

The trial felt a mixture of both long and short, lasting just short of a week. The defence went first, bringing up witnesses for both Moira and Malcolm's characters, who all talked about what a loving mother Moira was and how Malcolm was (to sum it up), a stone-cold bastard. One particularly damning piece of evidence was some camera footage from a hidden camera Felicity had confessed to putting in the mansion to keep an eye on Will. It was of Malcolm threatening Moira to make Walter stop looking into Tempest, verging on outright saying he would kill the other man if he didn't stop his investigation.

The prosecution tried to cast doubt on it all, of course. Oliver and Thea had been shocked and deeply betrayed by Moira's admission of her affair with Malcolm, but their anger had blown over quickly. Felicity was pretty sure that they'd have been angrier if not for the situation (the words, "death penalty" hung over their heads like a sword of Damocles), and also Felicity had quietly pointed out that Robert hadn't exactly been the image of fidelity himself. It didn't excuse it, but it made it more understandable. Truthfully, Felicity suspected it was more the additional proof of their mother's fallibility that upset the siblings than anything else. It was a hard fact to face, the knowledge that your parents were flawed and human too.

After the two days of defence, the prosecution called forth their own witnesses, disparaging Moira's character, trying to paint the image of a neglectful mother by bringing up Oliver's playboy days and Thea's DUI from early that year. In what the family considered to be a particularly low blow, they made several side comments about Thea's relationship with Roy, a petty criminal (Jean had objected to that phrasing based on the fact that Roy had never been charged), and even speaking about Felicity, how she was the daughter of a criminal who'd spent several years in foster care and had been arrested for hacking (again, Jean had objected due to the charges having been dropped and DA Donner had been sternly rebuked. Felicity, who had done background searches on the jury members and knew that two had also grown up in the system, was smug when she discovered via the CCTV cameras she'd hacked that he'd turned several of the poorer jury members against him with his prejudiced comments). Nor did Donner gain any sympathy from the parents on the jury when he basically (if not explicitly) said that it didn't matter whether of not Moira felt her children's lives were in danger.

Finally, after days of evidence being presented and the closing arguments being given, the jury was sent off to debate and decide on Moira's fate. The Queen family huddled together in silence, too tense and worried to say anything.

"I want you both to know," Moira said after a while, looking at her children. "That no matter what happens, I love you both so much, and I am so proud of the people you have become, of the partners you've chosen. I'm so happy to see how much joy Felicity and Will give you, Oliver, and how well you've come into yourself since meeting Roy and taking over Verdant this past year, Thea darling. Don't either of you ever forget that, alright?"

"Oh, Mom!" Thea let out a wet gasp and leaned forward to bury her head in Moira's neck, shaking and crying softly, while Oliver embraced them both. Felicity and Roy reached out to rest their hands on their partners' backs in comfort.

"If the worst comes to worst," Moira went on, voice choked with her own suppressed sobs. "I want you both to accept it. Don't let anything anyone says or does stop you both from moving forward with your lives. Alright? Promise me."

"Mom-" Oliver began to object, but she cut him off.

"Promise me," she turned to Felicity and Roy. "If this goes badly for us, please look after them for me."

"You don't need to ask," Felicity assured her steadily, years of practice all that was keeping her emotions in check.

Roy nodded, Thea now tucked under his arm. "I love Thea with everything in me, Mrs. Queen. I'll be at her side for as long as she'll let me stay."

Moira smiled softly, eyes sad. "I'm so very lucky to have seen my children find such wonderful partners."

The debate took an hour before the jury members returned and everyone waited in anticipation to learn the fate of Moira Queen.

"Has the jury reached a verdict?" Judge Hankerson asked formally.

"We have, Your Honour," the lead juror replied.

The family grasped hands, shoulders tense as they waited.

"In the charge of five hundred and two counts of conspiracy to commit murder, we find the defendant: guilty."

Thea moaned and Oliver's head fell forward. Moira released a shuddering breath.

"In the charge of five hundred and two counts of murder in the first degree, we find the defendant: _not_ guilty."


	27. The Source of Grief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mirakuru comes into play

"They say time heals all wounds, but that presumes the source of the grief is finite"  
― **Cassandra Clare,** **Clockwork Prince**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow. Thanks to all my reviewers and everyone enjoying this.**

**Continue to read, enjoy and review.**

**Chapter Twenty-Seven**

**The Source of Grief**

_**Lian Yu: late 2008** _

_"What the fuck is that moron thinking, running off after Ivo alone?" Felicity demanded, a mixture of furious and afraid for her friend._

_"Felicity, you don't understand. He_ _**isn't** _ _thinking. The Mirakuru"_

_"Well then explain it to me, Sara! What_ _**is** _ _Mirakuru, and what is it doing to Slade?" Felicity bit out frustratedly, raking her hands through her knotted hair. "Other than the thing that's going to, quote unquote, 'save the human race'?" She added with a bitingly sarcastic tone._

_It had been just three weeks since Shado's death. Three weeks since they'd injected Slade with an experimental serum from World War II era Japan in a desperate attempt to save his life. In those three weeks (spent dodging Ivo's crew, whom they were pretty much at war with. The only thing on their side was that, after nearly two years of being stuck on the godforsaken hellhole, Felicity and Slade knew the place like the back of their hands and had a dozen different boltholes around the place set up to hide in for varying lengths of time), the ex-ASIS soldier had increasingly devolved mentally, and it seemed only partially due to Shado's death. Felicity had dark bruises in the shape of his hand on her neck and her voice was hoarse from him gripping her harshly by the throat when she had tried to stop him marching off after Ivo and his men right after the makeshift funeral they'd had for Shado, burying her beside the grave she, Shado and Slade had dug for Yao Fei after his death when they rescued Shado a year ago._

_It was hard to believe how much her life had changed in such a short time. With every day that passed, her urban life with her family, running water, real toilets and a life where survival was a right, not something she needed to literally fight for, became more and more of a dream, while her instincts solidified into those of a warrior and a huntress._

_The previous morning, she and Sara had woken up and found Slade missing, along with his things. He must have planned it, explaining why he'd volunteered to take the final watch. He'd left them vulnerable by doing so without waking either of the women, the selfish son of a bitch. They'd searched all of the hiding spots that Felicity could think of, but this was the last shelter they had and there was still no sign of him. She feared he'd gone after Ivo seeking revenge for Shado's death, a suicide mission even with. Stress and worry had led to her frustrated demand and Sara's response._

_Sara bit down on her bottom lip, eyes worried and expression pinched, before she reluctantly spoke._

_"Mirakuru-the project was discontinued for a reason, Felicity," she began in a slow, halting voice. "It was too dangerous. Too few of the subjects survived their injection, and those who did-they were deformed. Either in body or in mind. The serum works by basically keeping the adrenal glands producing adrenaline constantly to make them stronger, you know the way adrenaline can give a mother the strength to lift an entire car off her child? That strength is what the body gets from the Mirakuru, but at the same time the flight response is suppressed, leaving only fight. In turn this causes the person to become angry and it clouds their judgement, keeps them angry, enraged really, all the time._

_The constant strain then leads to their mental states devolving. They start hallucinating, the smallest trigger will set them off. The men in Japan, they all went mad and had to be heavily sedated. The drug let them absorb the sedation faster than natural, so they had be kept hooked up to IV lines 24/7 to keep them unconscious._

_Even then, it wasn't a fool proof solution. One managed to wake up from his sedation and broke out of his cell. He killed thirteen guards before a sniper managed to take him out with a bullet through the head. After that, the project was declared a failure. They had no way to reverse it, so the men were all gassed in their cells while still sedated. Then the research was all packed up and sent away on the sub to try and keep it from being discovered by the Allies, while being retained for a possible revisitation later on."_

_"If you knew it was so dangerous, why did you suggest it?" Felicity hissed furiously at the blonde, knuckles white as she gripped Shado's, now her, bow tightly._

_Sara opened and closed her mouth, eyes shimmering with tears. "He was dying, and you and Shado were desperate," she said weakly. "I didn't-I didn't think it through. Oh God. I'm so sorry, Lissy."_

_"It's too late to reverse it now," Felicity grimaced and slung a spare quiver over her shoulder. "We just have to deal with the consequences as they come. Come on," she instructed the other woman briskly. Thoughts of how Slade might go about taking on so many opponents at once had sparked an idea. They'd left some of Fyers' weapons intact, namely the missile launcher that they didn't have the ability to destroy. It was conveniently located in a place that Slade would probably be able to use it to attack the Amazo. "We need to hurry. I have an idea where he might be. We need to find him and stop him before he does something irreversible."_

* * *

Felicity stared out the window of Oliver's office, lost in painful memories of the island. She was so deep into her thoughts that John actually managed to catch her off guard. He walked up behind her and rested a hand on her shoulder, making her jump and reach for the knife hidden in her sleeve instinctively. She eased out of her defensive stance when she recognized her companion.

"Felicity, you alright?" Diggle asked, frowning at her concernedly.

"Yes, I'm fine," she insisted, smoothing down her skirt. "Just lost in thought."

Oliver had called her that morning to tell her there had been a break in at Applied Sciences. Felicity hadn't been too worried until she heard the Central City CSI's theory of a single thief stealing a Kord Industries industrial centrifuge.

_"I bet you don't know how hard it is to break a person's neck,"_ Allen had commented to her husband, who'd denied it truthfully and easily.

_Felicity_ knew though. And she also knew that anyone injected with Mirakuru would be able to snap a neck one-handed with the same effort she would put into squashing a bug. She'd seen it happen.

She didn't want to believe it could possibly be connected to Mirakuru. The chances of her coming across anything linked to the project, which had been searched out and destroyed by both by her and later by ARGUS. It said a lot about the dangers of the drug, that even Amanda Waller considered it too big of a risk to take. Felicity had even written a virus that sought out any mention of the words 'Mirakuru' combined with 'drug', 'super strength', 'Japan(ese)' and 'World War II (project)', along with any variation in every language available to the ARGUS database (pretty much all of them). If more than two of the words were found linked together, the document was erased as thoroughly as possible. They would take no chances, and had released the virus into every search engine the agency could access. Waller's agents had orders to eliminate anybody discovered to be investigating Mirakuru with extreme prejudice as soon as it was confirmed.

Felicity had initially gone to alert Sara as soon as they'd left the Applied Sciences building. She'd even had the phone in her hand, but she'd stopped herself from pressing Sara's number at last minute. She needed more information before she began dragging up old nightmares for her friend. If it was a false alarm and Felicity was just being hysterical and seeing ghosts, then she'd be the only one to suffer the memory of that specific trauma.

Dig looked at her dubiously before giving into her stubborn expression. "Come on," he urged. "We need to talk to Oliver. Have you called Sara to tell her about the break-in?"

"She's in class at SCU," Felicity explained. The Canary had started the semester late, and was getting tutoring to catch up. It had been a favour from one of Dinah Lance's old friends, as Sara's mother had once been a professor there before moving to Central City, and she still had friends. "I'll brief her later."

Dig nodded and they made their way to the CEO's office. They found Oliver inside, studying his tablet with an expression of blatant disbelief.

"That CSI from Central was right," Dig said as they entered. "I just got a list from Applied Sciences. Only thing taken was the centrifuge. A few other things were damaged or broken, but that's all that's missing."

Felicity rubbed her thumb and forefinger together anxiously, heart pounding almost painfully.

"Well, that doesn't seem to be the only thing he was right about," Oliver remarked as he stood and moved around to show them the screen of his tablet. "I just got the CCTV footage. Look, you won't believe it. Maybe Felicity should check to see if it was doctored somehow or something. It just shouldn't be possible for this to be real."

Felicity swallowed harshly against the lump in her throat as she watched a man in a mask stride quickly from the warehouse, hefting the centrifuge, which probably weighed more than Diggle, over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He wasn't even bent over, and was almost jogging to the waiting truck.

She felt sick.

It was happening all over again. Her lungs seized and she clenched her hands into fists, nails digging into her palms. Instinct and trauma pleaded with her to pack up her family (including Dig, his family and the Lances), and run as far and fast away as possible. Maybe Antartica. Would that be far enough? Surely the twisted creature that had once been a man wouldn't be able to reach them there, particularly if they set up shop in some isolated glacier or something. She could hook something up, she was sure of it. Will could be tutored, and getting around Moira's monitoring anklet would be childishly simple. Oliver and she could run their companies from afar, and Dig would have more time for Lyla. Oh, she should probably bring Roy along too. She was actually fond of him, and Thea was head-over-heels for the young man. Sara could help her convince everyone of the pros of the move. The Canary would understand the decision to flee for their lives very well. She most likely had some contacts who could help them put down roots somewhere isolated.

"Felicity? Are you okay honey?" Oliver's worried voice broke through her racing mind, and she latched onto it like an anchor, using it to force her panic down and push away the flashbacks starting to play out in the midst of her hysterical planning.

She wasn't back on the island anymore, despite what her PTSD believed. She wasn't on the freighter, hand scrambling between the syringe of the possible-cure that might stop Slade and a discarded arrow that definitely would if her aim was true, struggling to stay awake and alive long enough to keep Slade occupied too long to escape the Amazo when the engines blew as per the plan. She'd had a rib piercing her left lung, her right leg had been broken in three places (and not cleanly either), and she'd also had a plethora of milder injuries, not to mention the after-effects of Slade's brutal torture. Still, she had fought with all her might to keep him focused on her so that he wouldn't realize they had sabotaged the ship's engines to make them blow until it was too late to get away.

But she wasn't there anymore, and she couldn't afford to let herself start thinking about those awful weeks after Slade had turned his rage and grief-induced desire for vengeance on her. Of the painful truth that she had killed him twice over. She'd killed the man he had once been, the good if cold one, when she injected him with the damn Mirakuru, and she'd killed his body when she stabbed him in the eye and let him be blown up with that cursed freighter.

"Felicity, are you alright?" Oliver repeated, blue eyes shining with concern for her. She cleared her throat and nodded.

"Fine," she said, voice hoarse. "I'm fine. Just worried."

"Felicity," Dig began, a perceptive look in his eye. "What do you know about this?"

She chewed the inside of her cheek, looking away from the two men who knew and read her far too easily for her comfort, her gaze landing on a family portrait of their family before the Gambit, complete with herself and Robert, that was hanging on the wall. A deep sigh escaped her as she reluctantly turned back to them.

"Pray that I'm wrong," she ordered them grimly. "Otherwise we're all in _big_ trouble."

The look on her face stopped them from saying anymore, but she saw them exchanging worried looks in the reflection of the glass door as she excused herself to go and start hacking SCPD to see what was going on with the investigation.

* * *

After confronting the thief (and subsequently getting thrown out of a moving truck into a wall), Felicity couldn't deny it anymore, nor could she keep her suspicions to herself. The team had to know. The only explanation for the man's strength was that he had indeed received a Mirakuru injection, and was one of the few who had managed to survive it, god damn him and whoever gave it to him. How many were there? She shuddered in horror at the thought of an army of Mirakuru-injected people roaming the streets. At least Slade had been contained to Lian Yu. If one of those people was unleashed in an urban area, Felicity didn't want to even contemplate the possibilities of what would happen.

She made her way back to the base painfully, steeling herself. The others were waiting anxiously for her in the foundry. While the guys swore at the sight of her injuries and hurried to grab the med kit, Sara met her eyes. There was the faintest tremble in the Canary's hands, signalling that the guys had already given her the rundown and she too had come to same conclusions as Felicity.

"Is it Mirakuru?" Sara asked quietly. Too quietly for the guys, on the other side of the room, to hear.

Felicity bowed her head. "Seems like," she confessed miserably. Sara let out a shuddering breath and turned away, chewing on her knuckles.

"Alright, shirt off," Dig ordered. "We need to fix you up."

Felicity tugged off her jacket and thermal shirt, grimacing at the pain when she tugged her wounds, and stayed quiet as they cleaned away the blood and patched her up.

"So what happened out there, Felicity?" Dig asked once she was tended to.

Felicity accepted an offered hoodie from Sara, who was pale with a tense jaw, and began speaking as she pulled it on. "You were right, to wonder if I knew more than I was saying," she said to Dig. She motioned between herself and Sara. "We both do, actually."

"It's called Mirakuru," Sara cut in before either man could reply, neither appearing surprised. She'd hate how well they knew her if she didn't love them both so much. "It's Japanese for miracle."

"Miracle is not what I would consider it," Felicity added bitterly, expression and voice dark as midnight. "More like ken'o, abomination. That stuff is so fucked up."

Sara nodded. "It would fit better," she agreed darkly, before turning back to the confused men. "It's a drug that was first invented in World War II Japan," she explained. "Every country had their own mission to create a secret weapon that would let them win the war, and Mirakuru was Japan's." She paused, inhaling and exhaling.

Felicity took over to let her regain her composure. "You know Captain America from the Marvel comics? How he's injected with a so-called 'super serum' that gives him super-strength? It's like that. Except that Mirakuru also- it turns you insane. I saw a man who'd been injected with it literally rip a tree out of the ground by the roots and throw it at _least_ six feet away in a fit of anger. Maybe even further."

"Jesus Christ," Dig breathed. Oliver also looked stunned.

"How the fuck is something like that possible?" He wondered, raking a hand through his short hair.

"When, when the yacht went down," Sara said unsteadily. "I was picked up by a freighter. The crew was under the command of a man named Dr Anth-Anthony Ivo. He had learned about Mirakuru and he was obsessed with finding the remains of the project. After the Japanese scrapped the project due to the majority of subjects dying and those surviving turning insane or becoming deformed, they stowed all the remaining samples and research on a submarine and sent it away to keep it secret and safe. That sub was then bombed by the Allies, causing it to sink just off the coast of an island in the North China Sea."

"Lian Yu," Oliver guessed. The two women nodded in grim confirmation, Sara crossing the room to start punching a training dummy to deal with the stress and panic coursing through her, while Felicity paced anxiously as she continued the story.

"In late '08, Ivo and Sara came to Lian Yu looking for the drug. They found it."

"Do you think this Ivo is in Starling City?" Dig questioned her with a concerned voice. She shook her head firmly.

"No way," she insisted.

"He's dead," Sara added coldly. "Felicity shot him twice point-blank, then I slit his throat and we threw his body overboard. And the crew all died too. If they escaped our attack, then they died when we blew the freighter. I don't understand how it could possibly have shown up again."

"Me neither," Felicity agreed darkly. "I deliberately erased any trace of that damn drug. ARGUS has an alert to allow them to find anybody who looks into it. Even _Waller_ thinks it's too dangerous to risk using. She'd have anyone who looked into it shot before they could finish typing it into the search engine. And the chances of this being a coincidence are so low, they're basically non-existent. I just can't believe that the two of coming across something this rare twice, on two sides of the world, was a fluke."

"So you think this is some sort of attack against one of you?" Oliver said warily. She pursed her lips and shrugged.

"Mention of it would be in my ARGUS file," she suggested thoughtfully, having been mulling over this question for most of the day. "If somebody in the agency has a grudge against me, this would be a good way to psych me out. It- the whole thing was hard for me."

That was an understatement, and she could see the questions written over the guys' expressions. But they remained focused on the task at hand.

"Or someone from the League who resents my leaving might have organized it," Sara pointed out doubtfully. "What led me there was well-known there. But I doubt it. This isn't their style, and no one would dare do so without Ra's' permission. If he wanted me punished for something, he'd do it very differently. None of this psychological torture thing."

"So this might be an attack against one of you, but probably Felicity," Dig concluded. "But where'd they get it from, and why now?"

"There's only one way to figure it out," Sara declared, abandoning her assault on the training dummy and stalking over to join them. Her blue eyes blazed with fiery determination. "We gotta find this guy and make him tell us everything he knows about the Mirakuru, and who the fuck gave it to him. Then we kill them both."

She made it sound so simple, but Felicity knew it wasn't so. It had taken an arrow through the eye and being blown up to take down Slade, and this guy was surely similar. Even with her, Sara, Dig and possibly Oliver's help (much as she hated the idea of him being at risk, he had improved in leaps and bounds since joining the team. He still wasn't on any of their levels, but he could hold his own.), their chances would be slim.

God help them all.

* * *

Dread filled Oliver when Felicity pressed the panic button, the alert that she and Sara needed back up. She and Sara had gone after Cyrus Gold as soon as they had tracked him down to the ARGUS storage facility. Oliver and Dig had followed behind, waiting as back up, a med kit in the car.

He was worried for her, more worried than he'd been since she went after Malcolm during the Undertaking. Not only was the explanation of the abilities and effects of the Mirakuru beyond disturbing, but there were matching looks in Felicity and Sara's faces that made him worry they weren't prepared mentally for this fight. It was clearly triggering their PTSD. If whomever that was behind this wanted to put one or both of the pair off-kilter, they were being very successful.

_"Felicity, this guy's muscles are so thick they dented a_ _**metal arrow** _ _!" He'd told her as she and Sara prepared to leave after she returned from speaking to Roy. "I looked it up, and they have to be at_ _**least** _ _the equivalent to solid concrete. You and Sara might be able to scratch him, but you_ _**won't** _ _be able to stop him."_

_She gave a strained, worried smile that failed to reach her eyes. No doubt she knew all of that already, better than him. She cupped his jaw with one hand while the other wound its way around his neck._

_"I killed one of these guys before," she revealed. "And that was without Sara's League training, and minus four years of experience. I can do it again."_

_"Just promise me you won't hold back," he'd pleaded. "Kill him, before he kills you or Sara."_

_Her expression hardened, turning grim and resolved. "I don't count it as killing," she responded, meeting his gaze steadily. "If Sl-if previous experience has taught me anything, it's that the person who Cyrus Gold used to be died the moment that needle pierced his skin. I'll fight to come home to you and our son, Oliver. Always."_

He held onto that promise as they raced inside the warehouse, guns held out in front of them and shouting for the two warrior women. His dread rose to crippling heights when neither responded. They found Sara first, bleeding from a knife wound to the upper abdomen and her head, breathing ragged and a bit of bone sticking out of her left arm. She neither moved nor responded when they tried to get a reaction out of her, but she was alive at least.

Felicity was near to her, slumped unconscious in a pile of boxes. There was no sign of any blood on her, but she failed to respond and for a panic-stricken moment, he couldn't see her chest moving.

"Is she alive?" Dig shouted from where he was frantically trying to stem the waterfall of blood that was pouring out of Sara's body.

"She has a pulse but she's not responsive!" Oliver shouted back. "She's been injected with something but it's coded. I don't know what it is!"

Dig yanked out his phone. "What's the code?" He demanded as he dialled a number. "Lyla," he greeted his girlfriend. "I need you to find out what's in this syringe, it was in an ARGUS warehouse." He repeated the number Oliver shouted at him. Meanwhile, Oliver was yanking out his own phone.

They had grown distant over the past couple of months, both of them stressed over the aftermath of the Undertaking and the revelation of Felicity's alter ego of Artemis, but Oliver still knew that Tommy wouldn't let him down.

_"Ollie, man, do you realize what time-?"_ Tommy greeted him tiredly. Oliver guessed that he'd woken him up. He couldn't bring himself to care. Later he'd apologize maybe, but not now.

"Tommy, I need you to get to SCT as quick as you can," he cut him off, speaking as fast he could. Across the room, Dig had stowed his phone away and was gathering Sara into his arms. Oliver pressed his cell between his shoulder and ear as he lifted his wife. She didn't stir, head dangling awkwardly. "Sara was stabbed in the upper abdomen, and her head's bleeding. And Felicity was poisoned with something. She's not responding."

"Lyla says it's Factor IX!" Diggle yelled at him as he stowed Sara in the back of the car. Oliver slid in, supporting Felicity with one arm while pressing hard on Sara's stab wound with the other. He could hear Tommy scrambling around and Aly questioning him in the background of the call.

"Factor IX!" Oliver repeated urgently. "Felicity was poisoned with something called Factor IX!"

_"Fuck!"_ Tommy barked. _"I'm en route, I'll meet you there."_ Then he hung up, and Oliver let the phone fall to the ground, concentrating on supporting the two women. As Dig drove through the streets of Starling at breakneck speed, he prayed to a god he only half-believed in that they would live. They'd been through so much already, and retained their good hearts. They didn't deserve this. Will didn't deserve to lose his mother a second time, and it would kill Quentin to lose his girls again, right after getting Sara back.

_**'Please,'**_ Oliver begged. _ **'Please God, let them live. I'll do anything, just let them live.'**_


	28. The Meaning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The guys rush Felicity and Sara back to the base to let Tommy save them

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow. Thank you all for your reviews and follows. I'm glad I managed to show how traumatizing the Mirakuru thing on the island was for Felicity. I've always thought it was the worst year for Oliver, and the year that affected him worst of all, even more than the Alpha-Omega genocide/Akio's death. Naturally it would be the same for Felicity.**

**Also, I realized that I had forgotten to add the judge's sentencing of Moira, as I had planned, so I used the scene for this chapter's flashback. Credit for my inspiration goes to CyberQueen!**

**Quote used for the chapter title is from "Lily" surname unknown. You'll understand why I chose that at the end part.**

**Finally, I have to warn you guys that I start my first year of college next week, so my focus will have to shift and there may be delays in getting chapters up. I will still update ASAP, but college comes first I'm afraid.**

**Now, all that being said, please read, enjoy and review!**

**Twenty-Eight**

**The Meaning of Life (Is the smile of a mother)**

Dig drove so fast that they beat Tommy to SCT, if only by moments. Tommy's Range Rover pulled into the lot as Oliver and Diggle were carefully removing the girls from the backseat, Oliver lifting Felicity while Dig took Sara, taking extra care not to move the knife still buried to the hilt in her torso. The doctor barely paused long enough to park before he and, to Oliver's surprised alarm, were jumping out of their car, medical bags in hand.

"Oh my god!" Aly exclaimed when she saw them. "Tommy take Felicity, I've got Sara! Be careful you don't jar the knife!"

"You brought Aly?" Oliver hissed at his friend.

"I had no choice, Ollie," Tommy snapped back as they all hastened towards the secret door leading to the base. "You told me I had two women in critical condition who needed urgent medical attention and I've only got two hands! Now, tell me everything about how she was poisoned. What the hell happened, and where was she injected? Could she have any more injuries other than the poisoning? Do you know roughly how long she's been unconscious and has she woken up at all? You're sure it was Factor IX?"

Oliver struggled to answer the questions being shot at him rapidly as they arrived at the base and the women were promptly laid out on tables for the doctors to treat them. Dig and Oliver hovered, anxious and wanting to help but aware this was way out their wheelhouse. Their skills were way too rudimentary for trauma surgery like this.

"Tell me you guys store blood?" Aly demanded as she ripped Sara's top open, muttering a violent curse at the sight of the bloody torso. The knife had kept it from gushing, but she was still drenched in blood. "Somebody get me a cloth and some water to clear the site! Now!" Dig ran for the blood (they had a whole fridge full of it, one shelf for Felicity-A negative, two shelves filled with O positive for Sara and Dig, and an extra shelf of O negative (the universal red cell donor) and AB (the universal plasma donor) at the bottom) and grabbed two bags each for the girls. "You know how to set that up?" Aly snapped at him. "Good, hurry, hurry, I need her hooked up before I can remove the knife. Shit, she's got bruising on her abdomen, it might be internal bleeding. I need to check her BP. Grab it from the bag, hurry, hurry!"

Meanwhile, Oliver had grabbed the demanded water and cloth, happy to have something to do instead of waiting around helplessly.

"Fuck!" Tommy, who had been bent over Felicity, attaching her to a drip, suddenly swore as the EKG he'd hooked her up to blared. "Starting chest compressions!"

He clambered onto the table and started pressing down harshly. "One, two, three!"

"Oliver!" Aly called sharply as she directed Dig to prepare to clamp down on Sara's wound when she removed the knife. "Do you have a blood thinner?"

"What?" He repeated blankly, too panicked by his wife flatlining (for the second time this year) to comprehend her words. "I don't-"

"She's suffering from intravenous coagulation," the trauma specialist explained impatiently on her husband's behalf, as Tommy didn't dare to risk removing his attention from the CPR. "Her blood is unnaturally clotting. It's like maple syrup. We need to thin it out. A Vitamin K antagonist would work. Do you guys have rat poison?"

"Rat poison?" Both men cried in unison, horrified by the suggestion.

"Don't let go of that wound!" Aly snarled at Diggle, who's grip on the gushing blood had slackened from his shock. "And yes. It'll work, it would only be a tiny amount."

"That could kill her!" Dig protested.

"Without it she'll die anyway," Aly answered seriously.

"Ollie," Tommy called for his attention. He continued to preform the compressions as he met his best friend's gaze. "Trust me. Please."

Oliver folded. He hurried to the corner and grabbed the rat poison, left over from when they were redoing the place after the Undertaking and some rats had taken up residence in the basement. He carried it over to Tommy, barely registering Aly and Dig's urgent actions over Sara's prone form were slowing slightly as she began to finish sewing up the wound.

"There's a syringe there, on the counter," Tommy alerted him, continuing with the compressions still. He was sweaty and there was a pant in his voice. CPR, when done correctly, was not for the weak-bodied. He could tell that he had probably at least cracked, if not outright broken, a minimum of two of Felicity's ribs, but she was breathing again, so he took it as a win. That being said, he was too wary to risk stopping the compressions.

"Babe, you need to swap out?" Aly called to him as she finished with Sara.

"No, I got it," he gritted out. "You do the injection." She didn't answer, hurrying over and snatching the syringe from Oliver. She filled it to five mls and injected it right in Felicity's chest, knowing it was the best chance the other woman had and every second was crucial.

A tense moment later, Felicity let out a gasp and her oxygen levels began to climb again.

The group all slumped in relief as their adrenaline started to drain, and Tommy groaned as he climbed back off the table, scrubbing at his eyes.

"Thank you, Tommy," Oliver croaked out as he took Felicity's limp hand in his own. The dark-haired man gave a drained smile.

"Hey, what're friends for if not saving your wife from certain death?" He questioned him with a ghost of a smile. Then he turned serious. "That being said, while I'm always willing to help if you guys need medical attention-"

"We both are," Aly inserted quickly and firmly.

"I hope we never have to go through this again," Tommy finished with an exhausted sigh.

"That makes two of us," Oliver remarked softly, eyes drifting down to his wife's still form. "But something tells me we're not going to be so lucky."

* * *

_**Starling City: December 2013** _

_"Does the jury agree with the prosecution's recommended sentence?" the judge asked next._

_"The jury does not."_

_There was another round of shocked gasps and whispers, and Moira, Thea and Oliver gained hopeful looks. Felicity felt as if the bones in her hand were being crushed, Oliver was clutching so tightly to her._

_"We recommend a sentence of several years under house arrest," the leader of the jury went on, "with restricted movement under strict supervision, and revocation of the defendant's passport. In addition, the defendant will perform a minimum of two thousand hours of community service, aiding the Glades and victims of the quake. Any charity work will not be counted as part of her service. The defendant will also be made to pay damages to the families of the five hundred and two victims of the earthquake, as well as to the city. Finally, she is to be barred from retaking her position at Queen Consolidated, and is to have no access to any R &D project."_

_That was a perfectly acceptable and reasonable punishment, one that they could manage, even if the damages would probably cause a strain. They'd expected to have to pay a heavy fine to the city and victims. If she was careful enough, Felicity could probably move some money from her offshore accounts to the Queen ones, and maybe even get some from the frozen Merlyn accounts. She'd just have to be careful about it, so that the IRS didn't pick up on it. She already knew they were watching the accounts. It was doable, though. Especially if she called in one of her markers from ARGUS. As for banning Moira from accessing R &D, Felicity got it. The earthquake machine was created under Moira's orders, after all._

_Of course, all of this was assuming that the judge agreed, which he had yet to do._

_"I agree with the jury's recommendation," Judge Hankerson declared after several moments of tense silence as he deliberated over the jury's recommendations. "I hereby sentence the defendant to a period of ten years during which she will wear an ankle monitor and prohibited from leaving the state, two thousand hours of community service, and order her to pay damages to the victims' family, the amount of which will be determined by the state of Washington." Another thud of his mallet as Thea broke down into a fresh bout of crying and Moira abruptly sat down, seeming dazed._

_She had been prepared to die, Felicity recognized. But not to live. And that was often the harder thing to do._

_"The court is adjourned."_

* * *

Felicity rubbed her pounding forehead harshly, leaning against the wall of the hallway after leaving Thea's room where Tommy was tending to the arrow wound she had given Roy. The doctor had shot her a pointed look to silently express his disapproval at her actions, but Felicity was unable to find the energy to care, especially after what had just happened. For a moment, she could have sworn that she had just seen Shado standing in front of her with a soft, sad smile, before disappearing when Felicity blinked.

It was completely impossible to have seen her, given that Shado was dead, and had been for about five years now. Felicity of all people would know, as the one who had seen her be killed and buried her herself, with Slade and Sara's help.

"Not possible," she whispered to herself. "It was just a trick of the light. That's all."

It had to be. Felicity wasn't going mad, she didn't have time. The city was drowning in crime and the ongoing consequences of the Undertaking, plus there was SCT, QC and, most importantly, her family to worry about. She couldn't afford to have a mental breakdown when her city was being attacked by someone with Mirakuru running through their veins.

She shuddered at the thought. Sara had been discreetly admitted to hospital by Tommy and Aly to help her recover better. Quentin was with her now, while Dinah was on her way down from Central City. They'd claimed she had been mugged as a cover story. No doubt the Canary would be indignant at the thought that she couldn't defend herself from some two-bit street thug, but selling the image of Sara as someone with only above average self-defence skills at best would help in obscuring her identity.

Of course, her father had quickly figured out the truth, which in turn had led to him putting two and two together and realizing that Felicity was Artemis. Quentin Lance hadn't been Lead Homicide Detective of the SCPD for the best part of a decade before his demotion for nothing. He had expressed his worry for their health, made them promise to be as careful as they could, and said nothing else. Felicity was surprised but relieved that he hadn't made a big deal out of it as she would have expected. It had been Oliver who pointed out the obvious to her.

_"He's your dad, Lissy," he had reminded her. "His priority has always been your, Sara and Laurel's safety. He might not like it, but he knows that those skills kept you alive. If he had to choose between his oath as a police officer and his daughters' safety and freedom, of course he'll choose his girls. Same as we would do for Will in his position."_

Felicity knew Oliver was right, but she and Sara still felt terrible about the difficult position they had put him in, especially with so much effort still being funnelled into the Anti-Vigilante Taskforce. In addition, Sara's return to Starling had caused more resources to be put into it again. The police clearly believed that Felicity was the priority and that the Canary was 'just' her follower, but there were warrants out for Sara now too. She didn't receive as much coverage as Artemis had since the start of her campaign against crime after her return, but she was still being venerated as a hero by the Glades (especially women) and cursed by the law enforcement/elite of the city.

The bright spot was that Felicity had it on good authority (i.e. the programs she had created and inserted into the servers there) that City Hall was being heavily pressured by the public to stop trying so hard to arrest her and her team, and instead focus on the _actual_ criminals the ones doing harm to the city. Felicity didn't consider herself to be a hero, not after everything she had done, and she knew that Sara felt the same way about herself, but the public vocally disagreed.

"It was just a trick of the light," Felicity repeated quietly to herself. On the other hand, maybe it hadn't been. Did ghosts exist? Maybe she should call Constantine and ask if ghosts were real, and if so, what sort of laws did they live by. Maybe Shado's spirit was haunting her.

God, she hoped not. If anybody deserved to have a peaceful, happy afterlife, it was Shado Gulong. Well, Shado and sweet little Akio.

Tommy left the bedroom, shutting it quietly behind him. He opened his mouth, paused, narrowed his eyes at her and came closer, clearly changing what he'd been about to say.

"Felicity, how're you feeling?" The doctor asked, studying her carefully with a physician's keenly assessing eye.

"Fine, just a bit dizzy," she replied, rubbing her temples tiredly. "Did I say thank you for helping, by the way?" She added, hoping to prolong the period before he started scolding her for shooting Roy. In her defence, she was panicking.

He was clearly planning on going after whoever had killed his friend (Max, was it?) himself. And seeing as Felicity knew the signs of a failed Mirakuru injection when she saw one, she knew he would (most likely literally) be ripped apart if he did so. Worse, Thea and Sin were both investigating the mysterious death with him and would be at risk too, so she'd had to do something to stop him. Physically disabling him had been her best chance, as he was much too stubborn to give up because of words, as he had proved when he demanded she give him more than simply having him be her informant. She wasn't willing to do that, however. It put him physically at risk, and Thea emotionally at risk, plus Felicity genuinely liked the kid.

"Yeah, back at the basement," Tommy answered, still looking her over critically. "I-"

"How's Roy?" She cut in quickly to distract him from trying to be 'doctorish' towards her. Then she winced internally as she realized that she had just left herself wide open to a chiding on shooting him, exactly what she had wanted to avoid.

He frowned at her reprovingly, clearly recognizing what she was doing, but went along with it. "He'll be fine. The arrow was aimed carefully. He'll be sore for a few days and a have a bit of a limp that'll heal, but it was shallow. Small scar. I hooked him up to some sedation so that he'll sleep for the next day or so, give it time to heal a bit before he's up and about again. Otherwise, knowing Roy, as soon as he wakes up he'll be up and about, risking the stitches. He's almost as bad as you."

"Good, I'm glad he's okay," she said sincerely. He must've read it in her expression because the scold in his blue eyes softened.

"Listen, Felicity," he began. She tensed, anticipating him lecturing her about shooting the kid. (She really did feel bad about it, even if she still thought it was her best shot at keeping him out of the Mirakuru mess). He surprised her with his next words. "There are some side effects to the injection I gave you."

"What sort of side effects?" She asked, a hint of hope sparking. Maybe it was just the rat poison (it freaked her out to know that they'd injected her with rat poison of all things, but it wasn't the worst makeshift medical treatment she'd been given, so she dealt with it as per usual, via the tried and true method of suppression.) that had caused her hallucination of Shado, not a result of insanity.

"Bleeding, obviously," he began to list. "Headaches, stomach pain, unexplained bruising, diarrhoea, vomiting, fever. Necrosis, but it's very rare. Then again, you have shit luck so it's probably a stronger possibility for you. And then there's hallucinations. Those are all I think of."

She let out a shaky breath at that and nodded. "Right."

"Are you hallucinating?" Tommy asked her worriedly, seeing her going stiff for a moment at the mention of hallucinating.

"Yeah," she admitted. "At least, just now I thought I saw- but it's impossible. Very impossible. I was seeing things."

"What did you see?" It was a personal question, but Tommy was a close friend, even if the knowledge that she had killed his father (however estranged they were and no matter how much Tommy hated him for what he had done, Malcolm was still his father, and had been a good one before Rebecca's death. Knowing that Felicity had killed him was an elephant in the room whenever they met.) had caused them to drift apart these past few months.

Felicity decided to tell him, hoping it might bridge the emotional gap between them a bit.

"Not what," she corrected him in a soft voice, looking towards the window and out of the garden instead of at him. In her mind's eye, she saw Shado as she had been during her life, strong, defiant, beautiful, an arrow pulled back on a taut string as she prepared to fire. "Who. Her name was Shado Gulong. We were on the island together. She was murdered in '08, I guess? It was hard to tell time. She's the one who taught me how to shoot a bow. She was like a sister to me, really."

"I'm sorry, Lissy," Tommy replied gently, resting a hand on her shoulder and rubbing it. Felicity gave a strained smile.

"Me too," she answered, a wealth of meaning in her words. Their gazes met, and Tommy nodded in understanding, forgiveness in his eyes.

It was a silver lining in a terrible period for the blonde archer.

* * *

Laurel was Christmas shopping with Sebastian when she got the call. She had just picked up a general gift card for the mall for Sara as a present. She wouldn't have bothered to ger her anything at all, but for the sake of her parents she had decided that she would play nice with her estranged sister (and with the Queens, should she be unfortunate enough to see them) during the holidays.

"So, we-" Sebastian was in the middle of speaking when her phone buzzed.

"Hold on a moment please, Babe," the lawyer smiled flirtatiously at her boyfriend as she pulled out her phone. She frowned briefly at the unknown number on the screen, pressing the answer button. "Hello, this is Laurel Lance."

_"Miss Lance, I'm Lisa Adams, calling from Starling General Hospital. You're listed as the emergency contact for Officer Quentin Lance,"_ a woman stated, her voice tinny from bad reception. Laurel stopped walking, going tense.

"Yes, that's my father, what happened, what's wrong?" She rushed out. "Is he okay?"

_"Your father was injured while attempting to apprehend a suspect earlier this evening,"_ Ms. Adams informed her in a grave tone. _"He's currently unconscious. Can you please come to the hospital right away? He doesn't appear to require surgery at this point, but there are some forms that need to be filled in and such, and he's expected to wake up within the next few hours."_

"Of course, I'm on my way," Laurel agreed anxiously. "I'll be right there. Thanks." She hung up and immediately began heading for the car, Sebastian at her heels with a concerned expression on his face.

"Laurel? What happened, is your dad alright?" He asked worriedly.

"No," she sniffed. "He's in hospital. He was helping apprehend a suspect and got hurt. I need to get to him."

"Of course, let me drive you," Sebastian offered caringly. "You're so upset, you won't be able to concentrate on the road properly."

"Alright," she acquiesced, handing him her keys as they arrived at the car door.

At the hospital she spoke to the Chief and learned who exactly the team (all of whom were now dead save for her father, thank God, and Officer Daily, the group's inside man at the station. Lucas Hilton, her dad's long-time partner, a man who had been a surrogate uncle to her, was among the dead. Laurel was the one who had to tell his wife, Jeannie, the news. She had never heard a cry like that before.) had been trying to arrest. Her blood turned cold when she heard the name.

"We got an anonymous tip of who the thief who broke into Queen Consolidated's Applied Sciences' building last week was," the Chief told her. "A guy named Cyrus Gold. He was ID'd on a video tape sent along with the tip. The team was just a small one, seven altogether. But they were all good, solid officers with experience. And this son of a bitch slaughtered them all without even needing a gun."

Laurel nodded shakily as she listened to the older man tell her and Sebastian that they were circling a photo and a 'do not approach, call 911 immediately' warning for Gold. After assuring her that they would get the guy and asking she give his best to her father, he left to get back to work.

She sank into Sebastian's arms as soon as they were alone. "Oh, God, Seb," she whispered to him fearfully. "What're we going to do?"

He swallowed heavily. "I'll speak to Cyrus," he murmured. "Convince him to calm down a bit. Everything will be fine, Laurel. Don't worry. Your dad's still alive, at any rate, and so is Daily."

"No thanks to Gold," she answered bitterly. He grimaced but said nothing. He didn't get the chance, as that was when Quentin began to stir.

Neither Laurel nor Sebastian had noticed the blonde ex-assassin who'd been hovering just outside of her father's room, reluctant to enter when her sister was there, and who had heard the whole thing.

Neither of them saw the way her expression darkened into a cold, terrifying expression as she listened to her sister and the alderman's whispered conversation. Sara's heart hardened towards Laurel in that moment. She didn't know the full story yet, but she knew enough to determine that Laurel was up to her ears in the Mirakuru mess, and that the Mirakuru-drugged man was the one who had nearly killed their beloved father. It was a sin that Sara, who still had nightmares of Lian Yu and the Amazo, whose greatest fear was Mirakuru and who had spent years clinging to memories of her family to retain her sanity, could never forgive.

Silent as a ghost, Ta-er al-Safer slipped away, heading back to her own hospital bed to keep her opponents unaware that she had overheard them.

* * *

"I think that arrow's sharp enough," Dig informed Felicity as he came up beside her, crossing his arms over his chest.

Felicity pulled the arrow away from the sharpener, grimacing at her partner. "It has to be sharp enough to make up for the fact that my mind's lost its' edge."

A blood test had confirmed that she had no physical reason to be seeing (and in Slade's case, fighting) ghosts. Meaning she really had gone crazy.

Terrible timing. Couldn't her mind have been decent enough to wait until she had killed the psychotic bastard stupid and arrogant enough to get jacked up on fucking Mirakuru to snap?

"You know when I got back from my first tour, I had Survivor's Guilt," Dig informed her, leaning against the metal table and studying her with knowing eyes. "I saw some friends of mine. Friends that hadn't made it back. They were me asking why us, why not them?"

"I know why," Felicity answered flatly, clenching her fist around the arrow she held. Ivo had chosen Shado to die because he had, in a very twisted way, cared for Sara, and he had hated Felicity and wanted her to suffer. Slade had died because she had made a choice in that moment when she had to choose to go for the arrow or the injection. To eliminate the threat he posed forever, or take a risk and use the untested antidote.

She had known of how dangerous Slade could be in his right mind, and he had been rambling about getting revenge on the ASIS for 'abandoning' him and Billy on Lian Yu, on Russia itself for producing Ivo, on everyone he could think of. She had pictured the damage he would wreck on the world if she didn't stop him.

And she had chosen not to risk it, and had stabbed him in the eye pressing its' point all the way into his brain and letting him be blown up with the rest of the Amazo to ensure it.

"Then the why's not your problem," Dig shrugged.

Felicity glanced down at the floor. "How'd you make them go away?" She asked hoarsely. It was pulling her fragile sanity apart, seeing Shado urging her to lay down her bow and rest, to hear Slade damning her for not being good enough to save his lover, for abandoning him, for _murdering_ him after all they had been through together.

She needed it to stop, otherwise she would probably kill herself, or let herself be killed to put an end to it.

"I figured out what they were trying to tell me," Dig explained simply.

Felicity bit her cheek, contemplating that. She was tempted to ask what Dig's ghosts had been telling him, but that was personal. She wasn't exactly keen on telling him or Oliver what Shado and Slade were saying to her, after all.

"I gotta go," she sighed finally, swinging her quiver onto her back.

"Felicity, wait!" Oliver called frantically, rushing over with a panicked expression. "You can't go," he insisted, gripping her arm.

She sighed, wishing he hadn't put her in this position. "I have to go, Oliver," she argued in a strained voice. "Gold is way too dangerous to be left to run loose around the city. There's no other option. I _have. to. go_."

"Gold left both Sara and her dad half-dead, which is twice as good as he left the rest of the team sent to arrest him," her husband protested. "He nearly killed you last time you went up against him, nearly killed Dig! You can't take him alone, especially not hallucinating and recovering from the last time you fought him."

"There is no other option, Oliver," Felicity replied desperately. "Believe me, there is pretty much nothing I want to do _less_ than go after Gold, but he is too dangerous. He _has_ to be put down. Please Babe. I gotta go." She was close to tears, and she could see his pleading expression. But his shoulders slumped and his grip on her slackened.

"Come back to me," he begged her softly.

She flinched, unable and unwilling to make such a promise. Then she pressed her crimson-painted lips softly against his own in a kiss before pulling away, grabbing her sword and heading for the exit, feeling the guys' gazes burning into her back.

Felicity went pale with horror as she arrived at the building they had tracked Gold to. Not only was Gold and some guy in a skull mask there, but, more importantly, _Thea_ was there too, tied to a chair with her head lolling against her chest. Despite Felicity's desperate attempts to get to her sweet sister-in-law, she was unable to get past Gold in time to stop the Skull-Mask man from injecting the young woman with the Mirakuru.

"NO!" Felicity screamed in panicked horror as she saw Thea's body seize before she went limp, red trails of blood dripping down her pale cheeks.

"You son of a bitch!" Felicity screamed in rage. "I will _fucking kill_ you!" Skull-Mask's mocking laugh was cut off abruptly when she dodged around Gold and flung her knife at him. She'd been fighting sloppily up until then, shaken and frightened by the Mirakuru, made unsteady and put on the backfoot by the memories it brought up and the hallucinations of Shado and Slade. But in that moment her aim was true as ever, and the knife sunk inches deep into his chest. He choked and stumbled back, clutching at it and clearly stunned by the turn of events, even without seeing his expression Felicity could tell that.

Gold let out an enraged yell when she took down Skull-Mask. He grabbed her by the arm and threw her, causing her to be slammed headfirst (Tommy would have a fit, she already had a concussion from her last fight with the enhanced man) into the wall. She coughed as she accidentally inhaled the dust from the hole her head had created in the plaster. She managed to roll away from it, groaning and whimpering in pain and exhaustion.

Her gaze landed on Thea as her eyes fluttered shut.

She was so tired of fighting all the time... not just fighting, but failing too. She was so tired. She'd been doing this for almost seven years straight now, ever since she'd washed up on the godforsaken beach of Lian Yu. She just wanted it all to _end_ , to have a life that consisted of being a regular mother, wife and tech expert, not the main line of defence for Starling City. Was that too much to ask? A bit of peace to enjoy her family, maybe give William a brother or sister as she and Oliver had once discussed before the wreck?

"Baby Girl, what're you doing?"

Felicity inhaled sharply as she recognized the voice of her newest hallucination. Tears were already welling her eyes when she opened them to take in the sight of Donna Smoak. Her late mother looked (of course) just as Felicity remembered her looking. Her blonde hair was long and curled gently, framing her face. Her make up was done and she was dressed in her pink waitress uniform from the diner that was her day job, with a short skirt and low neckline paired with a pair of killer heels and her name stitched in red calligraphy across her left breast. That form-fitting uniform was the source of many tips that had paid their rent for their crappy Glades' apartment.

"Momma?" Felicity whimpered. She knew it was a hallucination, but oh God how she missed her mother. As a child, Felicity had resented how much Donna worked. She loved her mother, and it stung because from her youthful perspective, Donna preferred to spend time flirting with men at the casino or one of the other jobs where she worked to spending time with her daughter. There had been days that Donna forgot to feed her because she was too busy with work, or else so exhausted she simply fell asleep on the ratty couch and didn't remember that Felicity needed dinner. Felicity had felt that her mother must blame her for Noah leaving, and thus avoided her as much as possible. But as she'd grown, Felicity had comprehended more and more that Donna had no choice, and even with three jobs they had been struggling to get by. It had made her deeply appreciative of the sacrifices she had made for her, and guilty over her youthful resentment.

Even when she thought that Donna didn't want to be around her, though, Felicity had never doubted her mother's steadfast love and devotion to her. No matter what suffering she went through, what grief and torment was heaped on her, she would always mark the day Detective Lance had come to her apartment and explained gently to her that her mother had been killed by a drug dealer on her way home as the worst day of her life.

"Baby Girl, you gotta get up," Donna urged her. "You're a Smoak woman, and Smoak women don't lie around, waiting to be rescued."

"I can't Mom," Felicity whined. "I'm too tired. It's too much, I can't do it anymore. I'm not strong enough."

"Nonsense!" Donna scoffed. "Like I said, Baby. You're a Smoak woman. My mother was strong enough to make it through three years in a concentration camp in Poland during the Holocaust, as well as make it through moving to the other side of the world with her little brother and no parents, and not only start a new life, but a successful one too. She provided for the both of them, sent my uncle to school, all by herself for four years until she married your grandfather. When your dad left, I was strong enough to move the two of us across the country to somewhere nobody knew about him and his illegal actions, and to raise you myself. And I did damn well if I do say so myself. My greatest achievement in life, no question about it."

Felicity hiccupped. That wasn't her own subconscious being arrogant, it was her recalling something she'd heard Donna say to somebody once. Felicity couldn't remember who it was, but she had cradled that memory close for many years, as a reminder of how much her mom had loved her.

"You got through the boat wreck, Lian Yu, Hong Kong and Russia," Donna went on encouragingly. "You completed a Masters at MIT by 18, and while pregnant and then raising a baby for the last part of it! You're so tough, Baby Girl. You can do this."

"I don't want to," Felicity whispered. "None of this-I never wanted this to be my life."

"Your Bubbe used to say that if you want to make God laugh, you tell him your plans," Donna observed. "I know you don't want to do it, Felicity, but you made a promise. I didn't raise you to break your promises. And this Mirakuru thing. You're the only one except Sara who understands just dangerous it really is, and Sara can't help right now. It has to be you."

"I know," Felicity sighed in defeat. She looked at her mother's image with tears trickling from her eyes. She didn't even bother trying to suppress them. "I miss you so much, Mommy," she whispered. " _So_ much. I didn't tell you how much I loved you nearly enough. How grateful I am for everything you did for me. Everything you sacrificed."

"It wasn't a sacrifice to raise you, and to do everything I could to nurture your potential," Donna refuted calmly. "You remember, I told Sally Jackson that when you were eight, and she agreed the same about dropping out of college to raise her son. You were the greatest gift in my life, same as William is for you. I told you that."

"Yeah," Felicity breathed. "You did. You were the best mom I could've asked for."

Donna smiled sweetly at her. It was the same smile William had, and she loved her son all the more for that. "Easy to be a good mother when you have an amazing daughter," she observed. "I might not've always been the mother you wanted, but I love you Baby Girl. I always will. And I am so proud of you."

"I love you too," Felicity breathed, watching as Donna finally faded away. She knew instinctively that the hallucinations had come to an end.

She understood now.

She clambered to her feet, spying Gold bent over Skull-Mask. She went at him, and the next few minutes were a blur of furious, determined fighting. She was reinvigorated by speaking with her mother. It might've been a hallucination, but pretty much everything Donna had said was an echo of something she'd said in reality when Felicity was a child. As a mother herself, Felicity was certain that Donna would still feel the same way if had lived to learn of what Felicity had done. A mother's love was unconditional.

Eventually, Felicity managed to get Gold up against the wall and next to the centrifuge. While the man was strong, he clearly wasn't trained in proper fighting, and like most successful Mirakuru subjects, his enhanced rage clouded his mind and damaged his ability to think clearly, and by default kept him from strategizing.

Once he was pinned, Felicity shot. Not at Gold with his almost impenetrable skin, but at the centrifuge beside him that was full of toxic chemicals. It exploded, and Gold screamed as the chemicals burned away his skin and life. Just to be sure, because she knew from experience just how difficult it was to kill a Mirakuru-laced person, Felicity then took advantage of his current inability to fight and raced closer, to decapitate him with a forceful swing of her katana.

"No!" A weak voice groaned. "Cyrus!" She spun, staring in surprise at Skull-Mask, who was still clinging to life. She withdrew another knife, bracing herself. It was possible that Skull-Mask was also injected with Mirakuru, but she doubted it from his attitude. Too calm headed.

She went over and knelt beside the bleeding man, pulling off his mask. She bit back a shocked gasp when she recognized Sebastian Blood, mayoral candidate, popular Glades alderman and Laurel Lance's boyfriend. In the back of her mind, she made a note to cover up the signs of her involvement. Despite his now obvious corruption, Blood was popular in the Glades, and the public would quickly turn against Artemis if they learned she had killed him.

"This isn't the end," Blood warned her, no doubt trying to frighten her.

"It's _your_ end," Felicity replied with a cold shrug.

"I'm not the only one," he threatened her, making her growl in anger. "My associates are involved too. The city _will_ be saved."

She scoffed. "Clearly you know nothing of Mirakuru," she sneered at him. "If you think that it will save anything. And as for your associates, I guess they'll all be getting a visit from me."

"You'll never figure out who they are," he insisted stubbornly.

She rolled her eyes. "I think I'll start with investigating Miss Lance, perhaps?" She suggested with a raised eyebrow, a smirk forming when she saw alarm flicker through his expression. So, Laurel was involved in this. Not good. What would she say to Sara and Quentin?

"Who are you?" He wondered. "I'm dying anyway. You might as well let me see the face of the woman who murdered me."

She pursed her lips but complied. She grabbed the top of her wig and pulled it off.

He let out a choked laugh. "Felicity Queen née Smoak," he mumbled. "Huh. Who'd of guessed?"

"Not you, clearly," she shrugged. "Now, I have a sister-in-law to help, and a city to save. Goodnight, Alderman." He opened his mouth, but he never got a chance to say another word, as she slit his throat in a swift motion.

Then she was instantly on her feet and racing to where Thea was still slumped, tied to her chair. She'd known that there was no point in rushing right to her. If the injection was successful, it would take awhile for the heiress to stir. If it wasn't, Felicity had no interest failing to find any signs of life in Thea's small form.

Truth be told, Felicity wasn't sure which would be worse. But despite her terror, she cut the ropes and laid Thea flat on the ground to do CPR. After three repeats, the brunette girl finally gasped, though she failed to regain consciousness.

Felicity buried her face in Thea's torso and wept in a mixture of fear and relief at her survival.

Thea was alive, but the Mirakuru was now coursing through her veins, and Felicity feared that she might've lost her sister (the in-law part was irrelevant) forever, even with her survival, just as she had with Slade.


	29. Past Disaster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity and Sara begin looking into the source of the Mirakuru

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow. This is where things really start diverging from canon guys, no more ep rewrites.**

**Instead of a flashback in this chapter, there's a report. It references events from the book Arrow: Vengeance (though I add a small mention of Rose and Grant Wilson).**

**Hope you keep enjoying it. Updates will come whenever I can manage, bear in mind I started college last Monday and have to prioritize studying.**

**Remember to always read, enjoy and review!**

_He who lives to forget his past lives to die of his past. Knowing the past, and keeping the past helps us to shape the future and may avoid past disaster repeating._ _-_ _Anthony Ugwuoke_

**Chapter Nine**

**Avoid(ing) Past Disaster Repeating**

"This," Sara stated grimly as she prowled the edge of the training area like an upset panther, a dark cast to her face. "Is an unmitigated disaster."

"And Laurel is involved in it," Felicity added darkly. Her friend grimaced and clenched her hands into angry fists at the reminder of her sister's betrayal. They'd known Laurel was pissed, but going so far as to become involved in murder...

Quentin would be devastated when it came out, and Felicity cursed Laurel for her selfishness. She longed to teach the older woman a lesson. Only her rigid control over herself and her filial love for Quentin allowed her to refrain from storming Laurel's apartment and putting an arrow through her heart. If she really had one, and right then Felicity doubted it.

She sighed, eyeing her friend, who was pacing up and down, hands clenching in a way that told Felicity she was longing for a weapon to be in them.

Unlike Sara, Felicity wasn't moving. She was as still as a statue, her blue eyes narrowed and locked on the opposite wall where a human shaped target was pinned, though her thoughts were all far away from the target, focused on combing through her mind for a plan on what to do about the crisis descending on her home.

It had been a week since the break-in at the Applied Sciences' building that had led to their discovery of Mirakuru's re-emergence. Felicity had been working frantically to try and hunt down the other members of the group that Blood had mentioned, but she had made no progress on the matter, save for confirming with Sara that Laurel was definitely involved in the whole thing, and Officer Daily was the group's inside man at the police station.

Sara wanted the traitor's head for his actions that had led to the death of her godfather, Detective Lucas Hilton along with half-a-dozen other officers and Quentin's hospitalization. Felicity felt the same actually, but she was managing to (somewhat) keep her head on straight. They needed to leave Daily alive at the moment, to watch him and figure out who else was involved in this conspiracy (as well as avoid tipping the members off to their knowledge). Today was the first day that she and her best friend and comrade had been able to meet up privately to discuss the quiet calamity that had struck Starling City.

Dig and Oliver weren't there, and neither was Quentin. Quentin was still in hospital, due for release on Monday, while the guys just didn't understand the seriousness of the situation. And Felicity wanted to consider what to do about Thea without Oliver there. So far, she hadn't shown any signs of irrational anger or unnatural strength, but Felicity had secretly obtained a sample of her blood and she and Sara had both looked at it and run several tests with their sophisticated equipment (courtesy of Felicity's extensive contacts). Thea was definitely infected, which meant it was only a matter of time before the symptoms started to show themselves.

However, until Thea there was no record of a woman being injected with the Mirakuru, or someone younger than twenty-five, so they were all (including the guys, Tommy and Aly, who were all aware that Thea had been injected with the Mirakuru. But without any experience save with Gold, which had been limited, the others couldn't understand the danger, and Felicity and Sara's attempts at explaining just how terrible this catastrophe was for not just Starling City, but America, maybe even the world, were falling flat. Felicity was pretty sure they thought she and Sara were just overreacting due to their PTSD. The fact that they both choked up whenever they tried to explain their experience with it on Lian Yu wasn't helping their case.

What the others _did_ understand was that Thea had been injected with a dangerous, still mostly experimental, behavioural-altering serum. That was enough to worry them, even if Felicity felt they were still being too laissez-faire about it.) on tenterhooks, watching the young woman for any signs of the Mirakuru affecting her.

"But who else?" Felicity mused to herself, forcing her thoughts away from Thea and back onto 'The Group' (she and Sara had no other ID for them, so 'The Group' it was. The title was short for 'The Group of Psychotic Lunatics Who Are Too Arrogant to Realize That They're Going to Kill Us All'.) "Blood and Laurel aren't behind this," she stated firmly, her observation over the past few days, along with the knowledge she had of their personalities. "Neither of them have/had the mindset you'd need to organize something like this, or the resources. And they definitely wouldn't have the inside knowledge needed. There's no way they knew about the Mirakuru."

"A traitor in ARGUS?" Sara suggested.

"Maybe," Felicity nodded. She could easily see that scenario playing out. She wouldn't trust ARGUS as far as she could throw the building they were based out of. "Their morals are so grey; it'd be the ease of a blink for an agent to turn corrupt. But I don't know. It doesn't feel right. There are no living ARGUS agents I have a vendetta with. Nobody who'd come after me, especially not like this."

She'd mostly interacted with the Yamashiros during her time with ARGUS, as well as few others: Diana Patterson, Alan Chang, Kai Wu and of course Amanda Waller herself. Of those, Maseo and Tatsu were God-knew where, grieving their son's death (if one or both of them hadn't committed suicide, which Felicity wouldn't be surprised to hear. Something had broken in the couple when Akio died, and it was unhealable). Diana, Kai and Alan were all still active agents and she kept a loose connection with them, exchanging information and such.

But as far as she knew, Alan and Kai were both undercover at the moment, while Diana was running some operations over in Brazil, and her relations with them were cordial at worst. And she thought that she and Lyla had become friends of a sort over the past short while since they'd rescued the ARGUS agent from the gulag. Anyway, Dig was too sensible and good to hook up with a psychopath, so that struck Lyla off the list of potential corrupt ARGUS agents too.

As for her icy relationship with Amanda Waller, while they both hated each other, they (grudgingly) respected one another too, and used each other for help when necessary. Anyway, Amanda might've been morally bankrupt (at least in Felicity's opinion) but she was shrewd and sensible too. She agreed with Felicity that Mirakuru was far, far too dangerous to risk using, and had worked along with her back in late '09 to erase any trace of it and its' mention they could find, creating a team to keep an eye out for any signs of someone using it (and Felicity was definitely going to be demanding an explanation for their failure to detect its' reappearance). Besides that, this whole thing wasn't Waller's style, and was too overt for the director's tastes. If Amanda decided that she wanted Felicity eliminated, she would have it done discreetly and subtly, and efficiently. A sniper hidden on a rooftop perhaps, or her car subtly sabotaged. Something untraceable and unable to be connected to ARGUS.

Anyone else that Felicity had met while working for ARGUS had only been one or two meetings at most. Not enough to establish a grudge against her that would be so convoluted.

No, this wasn't an ARGUS agent. It just didn't fit the puzzle.

"This is a personal attack on us," Sara agreed. "The Mirakuru being used, something that both of us have a- _difficult_ history with." She was not going to acknowledge that she and Felicity were both traumatized by the events of 2008/09. There was no time for any deep insight into her dark, scarred psyche. They had to find and eliminate anyone involved in the production of the Mirakuru, immediately. "Thea being injected," the Canary continued, both of them twitching at the mention. "The centrifuge being stolen from Queen Consolidated instead of someplace easier to access. I know Gold had a pretty easy time getting in, but QC has way better security than, say, Kord Industries, and they produce and transport those things semi-regularly. If I'd had to choose between them, I'd've gone with attacking a KI transport to steal one. Easier and quicker, less chance of being caught on camera, which he was."

"Me too," Felicity murmured with a pensive expression. "Even Laurel being brought into this conspiracy is a personal attack," Felicity pointed out. They were both keeping their emotions tightly under wraps to avoid letting their judgement be clouded by their hurt and fear. "Given that she's your sister. I just can't bring myself to think of it as a coincidence. It's all to linked to us. This is personal. Someone's vendetta against us."

"I agree," Sara nodded. A hint of hesitance leaked into her expression as she turned to look at Felicity and bring up the elephant in the room they had both been side-stepping. There was only one person who fit the description of their unidentified enemy. It was someone who's name had gone unmentioned between them since their reunion after Felicity had briefly explained what happened, neither wanting to deal with the memories of the events of that terrible year.

But neither of them were the type to choose flight over fight. Not anymore, at any rate.

"Felicity," Sara began, her voice low. "Are you absolutely sure that you killed him? Did you see his body?"

Felicity's jaw clenched and her shoulders tightened. "Well, I stabbed him through the eye with an arrow, and the freighter blew up a few moments later, so I'd think he was dead," she replied in a sharp tone.

"But you survived the explosion," Sara pointed out.

"Because of ARGUS's intervention," the archer shot back. "And barely even then."

"Slade had the Mirakuru," Sara stated flatly. "Would you bet the city that you managed to kill him?"

Felicity's hands curled into fists, her nails digging into her palms. Her voice was flat and neutral, expression blank, when she spoke next after several moments of heavy silence, pointedly changing the subject and signalling silently to Sara that the subject was closed. "We need to put a tail on Laurel and Daily, see who they're meeting with," she declared.

Sara nodded silently. If she felt any distress over the fact that her sister was now their enemy, she didn't let it touch her expression. The League of Assassins had clearly taught her well when it came to emotional suppression. "And somebody needs to watch Thea," the Canary pointed out softly. Felicity grimaced as they exchanged dark looks.

Were it a stranger or an enemy who had been injected with the godforsaken serum, Felicity would've just slit their throat and been done with it, not given them CPR.

But it was _Thea_ , the girl she considered her sister in far more than simply law, the girl she had loved since she was a kid, her son's aunt and her husband's adored baby sister. So instead of following her instinct to kill her and put an end to the threat, she had saved her, and now she was left to pray to a God whose existence she didn't even believe in that she hadn't made a fatal mistake, and that she could succeed in saving Thea where she had failed to save Slade.

Sara was as anxious as her about it, she knew from their earlier discussion on her. Despite best efforts, they couldn't bring themselves to do more than touch on what to do. All they had managed to do was agree that she needed to be kept under a tight watch, one that they would have to do themselves.

The others simply didn't have the experience to let them properly comprehend the danger the city was in as long as this group was around injecting people with the serum, so that left it up to Artemis and the Canary to do the job themselves.

They were caught between a rock and a hard place, with lava beneath them.

No escape from an eternal, waking nightmare.

"So, who takes who?" Felicity wondered, shaking those thoughts away.

"I'll take Thea, you take Laurel," Sara decided. "That's the best option."

It went unsaid that they would be less likely to let their emotions cloud their judgement with these pairings than if Sara took her sister and Felicity took hers.

"And Daily?" Felicity pointed out. "Who'll cover him?"

Sara grimaced. "Dig?" She suggested.

Felicity sighed and nodded. "I guess," she assented reluctantly, disappointed that she'd have to pull her partner from his current guard of her son. He'd been injured when he confronted Gold the week previous, but he was healed and skilled enough to manage so long as he didn't wander into another Mirakuru-laced psychopath. Following Daily probably wouldn't help him avoid that, but Dig was good at their job. "I'll call him now and tell him."

Sara nodded, and began working out on the salmon ladder while Felicity made the call.

She could feel the ghost of their memories, and the question that Sara had asked her earlier, hovering in the room.

_"Would you bet the city that you managed to kill him?"_

No. No, she wouldn't.

Once Felicity had given Diggle his assignment, she reluctantly turned to her computers and began working, searching for any trace that might indicate whether or not Slade had survived the explosion of the Amazo or not.

* * *

_**Excerpt from a report found in the online archives of the Australian Secret Intelligence Service Database. Final Draft compiled 18** _ _**th** _ _**October 2012** _

_Agent Wilson's increasingly erratic behaviour caused concern amongst his colleagues and from his supervisor, Agent Wade DeForge. He appeared to be having hallucinations and flashbacks, but refused to attend either a psychological evaluation or a physical one. He showed signs of an obsession that seemed to be centred on the late Felicity Queen née Smoak, an American billionaire's wife who reportedly died in a shipwreck along with her father-in-law, Robert Queen (CEO of Queen Consolidated), her best friend Sara Lance, a college student, and the six members of the crew of the yacht they were sailing to China on. According to Agent Wilson, Mrs. Queen in fact washed up on the beach of Lian Yu after the wreck instead of drowning. He claims she was the one to kill the late Agent William "Billy" Wintergreen, for unknown reasons, the believed source of his vendetta/obsession with her._

_(Note, Agent Wilson's erratic behaviour blatantly occurred for the first time in 2010, when he spotted a photograph of Felicity Queen, apparently alive and well in Hong Kong, China. He demanded to be allowed to go to Hong Kong, track her down and kill her. He relented on being informed that the picture was proven to be a hoax by criminals, as a lure to kidnap her husband for ransom. Prior to that, however, note had been made of Agent Wilson's apparent burgeoning obsession with the Queen family and Felicity Queen in particular, causing red flags as to his mental state. After this incident, along with several mandated counselling sessions, however, he seemed to go back to normal until mid-2012, when his temper turned erratic and unpredictable.)_

_On October 12_ _th_ _, 2012, the situation escalated. Agent Wilson had a hallucination, speaking to "Shado" (believed to be Shado Gulong, daughter of ex Chinese General Yao Fei Gulong, whom Wilson and Wintergreen were sent to exfiltrate from Lian Yu. Evidence was found that she was on the island as well, though the how's and whys of her presence there are unknown.)_

_Agent DeForge, due to increasing suspicion of Agent Wilson's truthfulness in regards to his report of the events on Lian Yu, sent a team to investigate the island. There, they learned that Agent Wilson was the one who killed Wintergreen (again, his motives for murdering his partner are unknown. It is possible this was the first sign of his mental breakdown), not Mrs. Queen. Either after the hallucination ended, or during it, Agent Wilson went berserk, and attacked both Agent DeForge and Agent Matthew_ _Nakauchi, injuring Nakauchi severely, before fleeing Headquarters._

_He was tracked down to his house, where a team confronted him in the middle of him screaming at his wife and eldest son Joseph (age twelve), both of whom were clearly frightened by his actions. His younger son Grant (age four and a half), and daughter Rose (age two) were later found crying and hiding beneath Grant's bed. The team surrounded Wilson, and Agent DeForge confronted him with what the team learned about his time on Lian Yu. Just then, a reporter came on television and announced that Felicity Queen had been alive on Lian Yu (why her presence went undetected during the team's investigation is unknown at present. Possibly she deliberately hid from them due to the actions of Agent Wilson. Given the length of time she spent there, she would've had the knowledge of the terrain needed to remain undetected). This announcement pushed Wilson over the edge. He confessed to killing Agent Wintergreen and declared that he would also kill Mrs. Queen before attacking the team._

_He was brutal, and had an unnatural strength, crushing Agent DeForge's neck with one hand amongst other feats (detailed in the attached report). In the crossfire, Mrs. Adeline Wilson (Agent Wilson's wife) and Joseph Wilson were both killed. The identities' of their killers are uncertain._

_All of the team (consisting of ten armed agents, in addition to Agent DeForge) were killed by Agent Wilson, who was unarmed prior to taking multiple guns and knives from his opponents' bodies when leaving his home (according to the video footage from the armour cams used to compile the report on the confrontation, Wilson kissed his wife's lips and son's forehead before leaving, promising-apparently during another hallucination of Shado-to achieve vengeance on Mrs. Queen for her "taking everything" from him.). He made no attempt to retrieve or even check on Grant and Rose, despite Rose being faintly heard crying. It is possible he sunk so deeply into his madness he didn't recall their existence, and couldn't hear her at all._

_**Recommendation:** _ _declare Agent Slade Wilson to be a rogue agent, armed and EXTREMELY dangerous and discreetly alert our sister agencies plus warn the Queen family of the threats against Felicity Queen._

_**Postscript: Recommendation:** _

_Declare Agent Slade Wilson to be a rogue agent, armed and EXTREMELY dangerous:_ _**Accepted** _

_Discreetly alert our sister agencies plus warn the Queen family of the threats against Felicity Queen:_ _**Denied on grounds of possible security compromise** _

* * *

Felicity was seething with rage after reading the report she had obtained from the Australian Secret Intelligence Service's database. Sara was out following Thea, Oliver was at QC, and Dig was watching Officer Daily. She was alone, and able to release her fury without any concerned eyes or questions, something she took full advantage of by attacking the Wing Chun dummy with vicious, seething rage that seemed to make her blood boil beneath her skin.

God, what a fucking disaster, was all she could think. And how the hell had Waller not picked up on Slade's survival? How had this slipped beneath her nose?

After a while of beating up the dummy, the archer abandoned it to pace the length of the foundry anxiously, rubbing her thumb and forefinger together in a nervous tick. It didn't take her IQ of 170 to put two and two together and realize that this whole mess was Slade's way of gaining revenge on her for Shado's death. No doubt Sara being around to suffer as well was simply a pleasant bonus in his eyes.

There had been twenty-five dead bodies found around Starling City in the last two months, all dead of the same causes, with trails of bloody tear tracks leaking out of their eyes to dry on their cheeks. The cops blamed overdoses from an unidentified new drug of some sort. Felicity and Sara knew better. Not a _new_ drug, but an _old_ one.

It was obvious that Slade was building an army. That Mirakuru killed most people who were injected with it gave a twisted comfort to the vigilantes. Successfully injecting enough people would take a long time. Time that Felicity and Sara (and the rest of the team) would be able to use to find Slade, and kill him and the rest of his group.

First, however. Felicity changed from her training gear into her vigilante disguise before she stalked over to the 'science table' and snatched up one of the vials of blood she had taken from Cyrus Gold's body before she had burned the building where she'd fought him and Sebastian Blood in to the ground. In that, the chemicals they'd had stocked in the place had been very helpful to her. She had ensured that there was no useable trace of Gold's DNA left that someone could use to try and synthesize more Mirakuru, or something similar. But she had taken some samples for herself before doing so, to use to try and create a counteractant.

Four years ago, she hadn't trusted Ivo's word that his untested serum was even an attempt at a cure, and had chosen her arrow over the syringe. Trusted the weapon she knew and trusted over the one she didn't. This time, she was doing things slightly differently.

Learn from your mistakes and so on.

She stowed one of the five vials in her breast pocket and headed out, making her way to the nearest ARGUS headquarters.

She got in easily, scoffing in contempt at the laughable security they had. The few agents who came across her, she quickly and easily took out before continuing on her way to Amanda's office.

"We need to talk," she announced bluntly, storming into the director's office without bothering to knock. She refused to do Waller the courtesy of politeness.

Waller looked up from the reports she was perusing, raising an eyebrow. "And what do we need to talk about, exactly?' She drawled. "Here to kill me, are you?"

It was tempting, but for the moment Felicity was better off with Waller in charge of the agency. They hated each other, but they respected one another as well. So long as they maintained their alliance, Felicity had no intention of being the one to breach it by assassinating Waller. She couldn't guarantee that the next Director of the Advanced Research Group United Support would be her ally, not her enemy.

"Not yet," Felicity replied darkly, because should the status quo change and it become better to kill Waller, she wasn't likely to grieve the woman's death, or regret it. She'd never forgive the older woman for Hong Kong. Ever. Not to mention what had happened because of her hiring Fyers' group and supplying them with the missile launcher. She, Shado and Slade might've stopped the plane being destroyed, but everything else, Yao Fei, their torture... all of it could be traced back to Amanda Waller and her ruthless decisions, damn her to hell and back.

"Fortunately for you," Felicity went on. "There's someone else who's moved to the top of my list."

"Who is that, then?" Waller raised a delicate eyebrow.

"Slade Wilson."

Waller froze. In anyone else, it wouldn't've been noticeable, let alone noteworthy. In Amanda, who had a rigid control over her emotions and display of them, it was the equivalent to her clapping both hands over her mouth and shrieking hysterically. Felicity might've been pleased that she'd gotten a reaction from the stone-cold woman if she wasn't so frightened and furious herself.

"Slade Wilson is dead," Amanda said after a slight pause, her composure ruffled.

Felicity snorted bitterly, glowering at Waller as she tossed the file of printed reports from ASIS on the desk. In it was the file detailing everything that had happened with Slade between him being found near the Philippines and taken back to Australia up until his breakdown and the subsequent bodies he had left in his wake when he fled. The file contained his report on what happened on Lian Yu (with Wintergreen substituted for her, and Yao Fei taking Shado's place in the events), and his request to be moved to desk duty. Then the reports that detailed the agents' rising concern as to his mental state, including the statement from his wife where she expressed fear that her husband was a danger to their young children and herself (a fear that proved painfully true), and finally the report (crafted from video footage from the assault team's armour cams, given nobody had survived to report themselves what happened) on the confrontation at the Wilson house and their deaths at Slade's hands.

Waller read through it with shoulders that tightened. Her expression was dark when she finally looked back at Felicity.

"How the fuck did this slip past you, Waller?" She hissed, slamming her hands on the desk and looming over the woman. "You were supposed to be keeping an eye out for any signs of Mirakuru! What the fuck happened?"

Amanda's expression was storming. "I'll have an investigation," she promised. "There are multiple ways this should have alerted the team I have assigned to watch for Mirakuru activity as to Wilson's survival. They'll lose their jobs if they're lucky."

"Speaking of that, that's not all your team missed," Felicity bit out. "I first became suspicious and started looking into the possibility of Slade's survival because of the break-in at Applied Sciences' two weeks ago. The man who did was named Cyrus Gold, and he was a successful Mirakuru injectee. Thankfully, I managed to take him out, but when I checked the SCPD database, I discovered that over twenty bodies have been found in the last two months, all showing signs of being failed attempts at a Mirakuru injection."

Waller paled slightly, eyes widening a fraction. It spoke to how dangerous the Mirakuru was that the ruthless woman was afraid of it.

"I destroyed any trace of Gold's body that I could find," Felicity went on tensely, removing the vial of blood and placing it down on the desk. "And I took this from his corpse. Give it to your scientists, and get them to synthesize a cure. In the meantime, I'll work on tracking down whomever else is involved in this conspiracy, seeing as your organization clearly can't be relied on to do so properly."

Waller's lips tightened at the insult, but she gave a curt nod, wrapping her elegant fingers around the vial and picking it up to examine. "If this the only blood you kept?" She wondered. "And have you ID anyone else who survived the serum?"

"If I had, I wouldn't give the rest to you," Felicity drawled in response to the first query. "I believe that _you_ wouldn't try and create more of these psychopaths. I hate you, but you're too smart to try. I have less faith in the intelligence of your scientific division."

Waller scowled but gave a grudging nod.

"And there have been no more attacks that can be contributed to a Mirakuru recipient," Felicity went on, not daring to mention Thea. She had no doubt that if she did, her sister-in-law would get a bullet through the head before the next sunrise. "But there's definitely Slade, and he's an army all on his own."

"And the bodies show that he's working on adding to it," Waller added grimly. "I'll have my scientists get to work on a cure immediately," she promised.

Felicity nodded, but didn't leave just yet. She had one more warning to give before she went to track down Laurel and start following her.

"One last thing, Waller," she said in a low, threatening tone. The director lifted her chin defiantly in response to the silent challenge for dominance. "Starling City has a population of approximately 576,000 people, but no amount of innocents will convince me that you won't blow it up anyway to try and stop Slade.

Let me warn you of this: I have a programme set up. Should a certain criteria be fulfilled, or should it be activated manually via a password known only to my team and I, every major news outlet, both national and international, will receive evidence of all your schemes, all your ops. No agents will be compromised, save for you, and ARGUS will be collapse from the scandal.

The President and Congress will have no choice but to disavow you and your organization and hand you over to whichever country manages to get their hands on you first. I expect they'd be tearing each other apart for the chance to get their hands on you, especially Russia and China. Not to mention Asia's reaction to your confession about how you were going to destroy one of their planes and damage their economy, just to kill one woman.

To put it in simple terms: if Starling City and I go down, you're going down with us."

She felt the sides of her lips curve up at the sides at the sight of the anger and hint of fear in Waller's expression as she pushed herself away from the table and sauntered over to the window, where she fired a zipline arrow at the opposite roof before using her bow to zip across.

Now, to turn her attention to Laurel. Laurel would lead her to Slade, and then. Then she would make up for the mistake she had made half a decade ago on that cursed island, when she had injected him in the first place.

If only she and Shado had just let him die, he'd have died a hero, and never become the monster he was now.


	30. Tears Shed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity follows Laurel to a meeting

" _Tears shed for another person are not a sign of weakness. They are a sign of a pure heart."_  
 _―_ _ **José N. Harris,**_ _ **MI VIDA: A Story of Faith, Hope and Love**_

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow. Okay, I know that people want more Queen family time, but I just can't manage it right now. The epilogue will be all family fluff, I swear, but right now is action. Only a few chapters left.**

**This one's a bit shorter than usual, but I wanted to get another out this week.**

**Read, enjoy and review.**

**Chapter Thirty**

**Tears Shed**

_**Hong Kong, 2009** _

_"This is getting ridiculous, Mrs. Queen. You waste all of our time and resources with these useless escape attempts. Is this the thanks you give me for getting you off Lian Yu and saving your life?"_

_"I don't owe you a single fucking thing," Felicity bit out as viciously as she could at the woman seated across from her._

_The woman "Director Amanda Waller of the Advanced Research Group United Support", (also known as ARGUS, a clearly incredibly shady black ops offshoot of the CIA. Given that the CIA was black ops too, Felicity was disturbed as all fuck to picture what ARGUS might be into) as she had introduced herself, was clearly going to be a formidable opponent. She was dark-skinned, with her straight raven hair pulled into a tight bun, not a strand out of place. She was perfectly put together, make up well done, form-fitting skirt-suit professional and managing to hold that delicate edge that allowed a glimpse at her long legs while at the same time conservative enough to make it clear that she hadn't climbed the political ladder to her position by spreading her legs for her superiors. It was her eyes, though, that caused Felicity to be instantly and deeply wary of the woman who stood between her and her return to Starling City._

_They were hard as stone. Felicity knew with a single glance that the woman was utterly ruthless, and would do whatever she deemed necessary to reach her goal._

_"What do you want with me?" Felicity asked icily. Perhaps she should've been more polite to the woman who had taken her out of that hellhole, but she was grieving, injured, and it was becoming increasingly obvious that, whatever these ARGUS people wanted from her, they had no intention of allowing her to go back home, or even let her make a phone call to tell her family she was alive. She had gotten as far as the port the last time she escaped (her sixth attempt), leaving a trail of ARGUS bodies in her wake (alive but not much of them would be fit for field duty ever again). Then they'd caught up to her as she tried to figure out what ship to try and sneak onto._

_Her problem wasn't escaping ARGUS, really that was just too easy. It was getting out of Hong Kong and her lack of knowledge in how to speak any dialect of Chinese that was causing her problems._

_"That's need to know, and you don't," Waller replied. Felicity scoffed in disdain at that, glare deepening._

_"Bullshit," she hissed. "You have no right to detain me here against my will," she added._

_Waller gave a smile that failed to reach her dark eyes. "You're dead, Mrs. Queen," she reminded Felicity, whose jaw clenched tightly. "Please do remember how simple it would be for the body to match the papers."_

_"Fuck you, you psychotic bitch!" Felicity snapped angrily, glowering bitterly. "What. Do. You. Want. With. Me?"_

_"I have need of a woman of your talents," Waller admitted. "Your skills, your IQ. We had our eye on you long before you ever washed up on that beach and picked up a bow and arrow."_

_"I'm not going to work for you, and I'm not going to stop trying to get home," Felicity answered stonily. Waller pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes._

_"Let's try this another way then, shall we?" She said. Felicity felt a jolt of unease as she watched the older woman pull out a tablet, tap at it for a few moments, and then show it to her._

_The young woman felt her heart stop in fear. It was footage from a security camera, and it showed Oliver at the park with their young son, playing with him in the sandpit. She recognized them both on sight, even after over two years away and through the less-than-stellar camera view._

_On a bench near to the pair was a nondescript man with glasses, seeming to be deep in conversation on his phone. After all her practice, Felicity had learned to recognize a hidden weapon, and she could easily pick out the shape of the gun on the man's hip. Her blood went cold as it dawned on her what was going on._

_Waller was going to pay for this one day._

_"What are you doing?" She said, her voice barely above a whisper. She felt her hands curl into fists, nails piercing her skin._

_Waller's eyes glinted with triumph as she raised a phone to her lips._

_"Agent Carron, please prove to Mrs. Queen that this is real-time footage," she ordered. On the screen 'Carron' nodded, casually standing up from the bench and stretching, allowing him to signal the CCTV camera._

_Oliver remained oblivious, picking Will up out of the sandpit and beginning to dust him off, the toddler squirming in protest at his father's actions. Tears pricked Felicity's eyes as she watched. Thankfully, she held them back, preventing Waller from seeing them. But she wasn't naïve enough to believe that Waller wouldn't pick up on her body language and the distress she felt at the scene._

_"You're a smart woman, Mrs. Queen," Waller told her lowly. "You must realize how simple it would be for us to end your family's lives."_

_"And if you kill Oliver and Will, what would you have left to hold over me?" Felicity asked mechanically. She regretted it a moment later when Waller proceeded to flick through different security cameras. She showed an undercover agent working as the bartender in the bar where Quentin was having a drink, a woman subtly stalking Thea as the teen shopped with her friends from school, some male agent sitting at the table behind Moira and a dark-skinned man Felicity vaguely remembered as the CFO of Queen Consolidated while the pair ate lunch together and even a woman speaking to Raisa at the grocery store._

_All ARGUS agents, all carefully placed to kill somebody Felicity loved if she didn't cooperate._

_Her expression was dead and emotionless when she met Waller's gaze, but inside a flame sparked to life and she silently resolved to make the Director pay for her actions._

_Felicity was going to make her pay for this, if it was the last thing the archer ever did._

* * *

Following Laurel was easy. Felicity had left her employees in charge of SCT (the good thing about being a boss with a habit of giving random, excessive bonuses was that she was able to wander off to do vigilante work without anyone causing a fuss or getting suspicious. Or at least, if they were feeling suspicious, they kept it to themselves. And, violation of their privacy or not, Felicity had inserted viruses into both their work and personal tech to alert her if they started looking into her activities so she could put them off the scent. It was hardly the worst of her list of sins. Barely ranked on it, to tell the truth.). She disguised herself as a platinum blonde with grey eyes (ignoring the shudder that went through her when the wig made her think of Chien Na Wei) dressed in a vintage cream shirt with a square neckline and covered in a plethora of pink roses, some faded denim jeans and a black faux-leather jacket, finished off with a pair of boots with a buckle on the side. Once dressed, she headed off to the District Attorney's office where she settled in and waited on the rooftop opposite, a pair of binoculars pressed to her eyes as she squinted in at Laurel's office, patiently waiting for something to happen.

That was a long, boring four hours, but Felicity had dealt with worse. Eventually, she saw Laurel receive and read a text message, before gathering up her things and hurrying from the room. Felicity quickly gathered up her own things and ensured no traces of her watch remained in her sniper's nest (Felicity didn't kid herself into pretending it was anything else, even if she hadn't actually sniped her target.), swung her satchel over her shoulder and used the pipe to scramble agilely down to the ground.

After that, Felicity lost sight of the lawyer until she saw the brunette stride briskly out of the building to where her car was parked. Felicity herself was waiting by her bike, pretending to be rooting in search of something through the small compartment attached to it as an excuse for her lingering outside the building for longer than a casual observer would deem it necessary. It often amazed (and disturbed) her how easily more sinister actions could be hidden by putting on the appearance of the mundane. Then she swung her leg over the seat and kicked it into gear just in time to chase after Laurel's dark green Skoda, being careful to stay far enough back to avoid being spotted while at the same time being close enough to keep sight on her target.

She was unsurprised when Laurel pulled into the parking lot of a relatively busy shopping mall, about half-way between the Glades and the centre of the city.

It was still easy to keep track of the other woman, pretending to be window shopping. She followed her all the way to the Starbucks, always bustling and directly across from a shop that Felicity ducked into for a while to keep up appearances. Due to the two large windows facing one another, she was able to keep an eye on Laurel's movements.

She very nearly lost her composure when she saw Laurel sit down at a small table across from Slade Wilson.

/\\\\\

Despite her best efforts, she couldn't tell what they were discussing (most likely their plans to kill god-knew-how-many-people out of resentment towards her). Their faces were angled so that she was unable to read their lips, especially when she had to leave the first store and go next door instead to avoid raising suspicions.

She wasn't surprised when Laurel, who passed literally inches from her while leaving her meeting with the ex-A.S.I.S agent, didn't shoot her a second glance, even when their hands brushed against each other.

And she definitely wasn't surprised that, even though "Laurel the Lawyer/Spoilt Child Who Had No Concept of Espionage Even While Helping A Dangerous Conspiracy" hadn't recognized her, Slade _did._ He was, after all, a former spy. And he'd been one of the best in his division. Spotting her was easy as cake to him, Felicity had no doubt.

He managed to sneak up on her, though she was quick to hide her disconcertion at that fact and raise an eyebrow at him.

"What an unwanted displeasure," she drawled, tilting her head back to meet his gaze. He towered over her, and she knew he could break her in half with one hand. It wasn't even a hyperbole, because of the damn Mirakuru. In spite of that, she refused to be intimidated or yield. They locked eyes for several moments before Slade finally broke the tense silence.

"Why don't you join me for a coffee, Princess?" He suggested with a smirk.

She scoffed. "You haven't had enough already?" She retorted. The last thing he needed was more caffeine to heighten his anxiety/paranoia and heart rate. The higher his heart rate and blood pressure was, the more psychotic he would be. She jerked her head towards a bench that would provide both of them with the vantage points they would need to keep reasonably calm.

Slade smirked slightly, the edges of the expression failing to reach his ice-cold eyes, and joined her on the bench. She resisted the urge to shift away on instinct when she felt him brush against her.

She couldn't risk showing any tiny bit of weakness in this 'conversation'.

"So, how many successful Mirakuru injections have you managed so far?" She inquired casually. "Can't be much, otherwise you'd have unleashed your new hounds on the city by now."

"Oh, you can't expect me to ruin the surprise, now can you?" Slade replied easily. The way they were speaking to each other and sitting calmly side-by-side, an outsider would be forgiven for thinking them good friends instead of bitter enemies.

At one point, they _had_ been good friends. They had stopped just short of being siblings in arms, as a matter of fact. But that, Felicity knew all too well, was a long time ago.

If they had been alone, she might have tried to provoke him, or else to reason with him. Neither had ever worked before, but Felicity was stubborn, hard-headed and loyal.

She didn't want to fight Slade, even now. She was acutely aware that it was the Mirakuru and grief, combined with the trauma they'd all gone through on that godforsaken hellhole of an island, that had turned him from the man who had guarded her back while she hacked Fyers' missile to reprogramme it to go for the mercenaries' camp instead of the plane, to the maniac who had killed his own wife and son on hearing of Felicity's survival. If only she and Shado hadn't given him the damn drug. If only Sara had warned them beforehand. She had gone through the different 'what if's too many times to count by now, and the only conclusion she had ever come to was that she regretted ever hearing of the goddamn serum.

Damn those Japanese idiots who had come up with the fucking thing. And damn the Allied morons who had failed to properly bomb the submarine into too many pieces to survive. If only...

At any rate, the point was that, Felicity didn't want Slade to be her enemy. She still wanted to get through to him. But because they were in a crowded place, and she knew that this version of Slade Wilson wouldn't be above using the civilians surrounding them as hostages against her (after all, he had always had a hard, cruel streak to him. The Mirakuru had only strengthened and worsened it, not created it.), she didn't dare to risk it.

"I am going to make you pay, Felicity," Slade warned her lowly, switching abruptly from feigned friendliness to cold-hearted villain, intent on revenge. It was disconcerting to see his mood swing.

"Then do," she agreed, a hint of pleading coming through her voice. Despite her earlier resolve, she found herself trying to reason with him anyway. "But kill _me_ , Slade. Leave my family and the city be. Whatever you're planning, don't do it. Please."

He smirked cruelly at her. "Ah, but I don't just want you to die," he pointed out. "I want you to _suffer_. To feel the grief I felt when Shado, Adeline and Joe died. All of them are dead because of you. I lost _everything_ because of you, so you are going to pay for it. And I _know_ you, Felicity. You held out under torture at eighteen, and again the year after.

No, physical pain isn't the way to punish you for what you did. _Emotional_ pain, on the other hand, is. You've always had such a tender, loving heart. Always been so compassionate and sweet, willing to put your life on the line for another without batting an eyelash. Nothing will hurt you half-as-much as watching the people and city you love so much crumble into pieces, all because of you. Once you've lost anything, and you're too distraught to fight anymore. _That's_ when I'm going to be kind and put you out of your misery."

She watched with a pained, helpless expression as he rose to his feet and walked away, a smug smile on his lips as he left her behind.

An older woman patted her on the shoulder, giving a sympathetic smile. "He's not worth crying over, dear," she said kindly. No doubt she thought they were just after breaking up or something. Felicity gave a bitter, teary smile in return.

"Yeah, he is," she corrected her painfully. She looked over her shoulder, but Slade was already disappeared into the crowds.

She tried to feel as if she was losing him all over again.

* * *

"What's happening to me?" Thea whimpered to her boyfriend; her green eyes wide with fear as the couple stared in shocked terror at the desk. Or rather, at its remains. They'd been arguing about a topic that had swiftly disappeared from Thea's mind the moment she hit the desk with the side of her fist in frustration, only for the thing to collapse in on itself.

If it had been an old wooden one, they might've dismissed it as merely the wood being conveniently weak in that particular spot. But it was metal, only purchased a month or so before the Undertaking, not that long ago, relatively speaking.

And this wasn't the first incident Thea had had since she had woken up in the hospital after being attacked by the masked lunatic, even if she had only revealed them to Roy.

"What's happening to me?" She repeated fearfully, holding her arms to her chest protectively. Roy pulled her into a hug and kissed the top of her head, eyeing the debris warily.

"I don't know what's going on," he admitted as he rubbed a hand up and now her tense back. "But we are gonna figure this out, okay? You're gonna be fine."

"I need you to promise not to leave me, no matter what happens," Thea breathed back. He pressed a kiss to her hair again.

"Not a chance, Baby," he vowed. "You're stuck with me as long as you'll have me."

She curled closer to him, burying herself in his scent and the feeling of safety and reassurance he gave her with his embrace.

Outside, Sara manoeuvred herself up on top of the building and sat down with her knees up, frowning grimly at them as she debated what to do next.

Thea's 'abilities' were starting to manifest, and though she seemed more mentally stable than Slade or any of the other subjects had been described as, she still presented a danger to everyone around her.

Killing her was off the table, regardless of how much easier it would make things. That left one question to be asked, the most basic one possible: what did they do now?


	31. Bane or Meaning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team expands

" _A family can be the bane of one's existence. A family can also be most of the meaning of one's existence. I don't know whether my family is bane or meaning, but they have surely gone away and left a large hole in my heart."_  
 _―_ _ **Keri Hulme,**_ _ **The Bone People**_

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow. Sorry I've been gone so long, guys. First my illness flared up and I was really sick and basically just lying around sleeping through treatment for the best part of a fortnight, then I was scrambling to catch up with my assignments, and between it all I just wasn't up to writing until now. Hopefully this is good enough to make up for things. Just a handful more chapters and the epilogue left now I think. (Though who knows what the plot bunnies will decide?)**

**Chapter Thirty-One**

**Bane or Meaning**

"What's going on?" Thea pressed her brother, tone frustrated as she, Roy and Sin all trailed behind him, walking through the lobby of SCT towards Felicity's office. "Ollie, why're you being so _weird_?"

Oliver had been tense and curt since he'd arrived at Verdant and insisted the three of them come with him with the vague excuse of "there's something that Felicity and I need to talk to you guys about." His refusal to elaborate was driving Thea, who was already stressed after she had somehow managed to leave _hand shaped imprints_ on the _bar_ , out of her mind.

Lately, her temper (which had always run hot) had been on a hair trigger. It frightened her, and it was worrying Sin and Roy. They were remaining steadily loyal to her despite her frequent snapping and everything else, and they had acquiesced to her desire to keep her strange new strength a secret, but Thea was terrified that she would end up accidentally hurting somebody soon. The furniture she kept breaking was causing enough problems. And the more stressed she became, the angrier she grew (nowadays it seemed as if every emotion, fear, anger, etc, all converted into anger. She'd always preferred anger to fear, but now she wished she could just be frightened. _Fear_ didn't make her shatter a glass with what seemed like a light touch to herself, sending shards everywhere) the more incidents she had. The rapid healing of her injuries was freaky too. She should've needed stitches after breaking the glass, but there hadn't even been a scar left by the time Roy had returned to the bar with the first-aid kit they kept in the office.

Thank God for Roy. His loving concern and the way he refused to flinch away from her despite the strange incidents surrounding her at the moment gave her an anchor to cling to in the middle of the storm her life had become. He was the only one able to calm her down and get her to breathe when her emotions started to overwhelm her. How she would manage without his support, she didn't want to contemplate. She doubted it would turn out well. What was she going to do? She couldn't rely on Roy to be around to calm her down 24/7.

Despite her desire to lose herself in worrying over what the hell was happening to her, she couldn't. Not right now at least, when she was so busy running Verdant and starting classes to achieve a degree in pre-med (she had decided, after her community service at the free clinic, to become a paediatrics nurse, as well as becoming far more involved in the charities her mother and sister-in-law both supported and helped. Before that she had never really cared much about them, the events were often dull and repetitive, and Thea had never truly understood or considered until then what life was like for those without the millions of dollars her family received daily even when QC was on the verge of being bought out by Stellmoor International.). Whenever she did start to brood (she wasn't as bad as Ollie was, but, like her brother (and her late father, according to Moira) Thea could "win the gold for Olympic brooding" as Felicity had once put it in a fit of exasperation.

"Just wait until we're downstairs, then we can explain," Oliver replied tightly, running a hand through his short hair.

Thea huffed. "'We' being yourself and Felicity, I suppose?" She asked. Oliver only hummed as they entered the office. To Thea, Roy and Sin's surprise, it was empty. They'd assumed that Felicity would be waiting for them within, but clearly not.

"Wait, did you say _downstairs_?" Sin echoed in surprise. "Wha'd'you mean, downstairs? How do we get downstairs from in...?" Her voice trailed off in surprise as the trio watched Oliver open a secret door and stand aside to reveal a set of concrete steps going down into the darkness. It was a scene straight out of a movie.

"What the hell, Ollie?" Thea exclaimed, staring in shock. "Why does Lissy have the entrance to a secret room in her office? What the heck is going on?"

"We'll explain everything downstairs," Oliver repeated his earlier sentiment. He gestured them forward. Thea hesitated, although Sin had a hint of understanding in her eyes (not a surprise, given she already knew that Sara and the Canary were one in the same and that the Canary and Artemis were working closely with one another) and Roy just seemed excited, his green eyes gleaming eagerly as he eyed the stairs. The mystery obviously intrigued him.

The kid had a lot of promise, really, despite his background. Oliver wondered if it would be possible to get him into the Police Academy, and made a mental note to bring it up with Quentin, who's demotion had been reversed recently and was now once again the Lead Homicide Detective. The man probably thought his fortunes had been completely reversed, and Oliver dreaded him finding out that Laurel had descended into criminality. It would surely devastate the man, and Oliver could only hope and pray that he wouldn't turn back to alcoholism, the way he had after Sara and Felicity's supposed deaths.

He pushed those thoughts away to worry over later, instead focusing on the present task of convincing his sister, her boyfriend and friend to come down to the basement. Or rather, of convincing Thea, as she was the only one reluctant to go down.

"Speedy, do you trust me?" He asked her.

"Of course," she confirmed without hesitation, much to his relief.

"And do you trust Felicity?"

"Yes."

"Then come downstairs with me," he urged her.

She exhaled heavily and nodded, and Oliver proceeded to lead the way downstairs where the rest of the team was waiting for their arrival.

Felicity and Sara were sparring furiously against one another, dressed only in workout bras and sports leggings. The scars that they had earned were on full display, making Thea gasp softly and stare in shock. Oliver realized that, despite it being about a year and a half since her return from Lian Yu (and everywhere else she had been), this was the first time Thea had spotted Felicity's scars. She had known of them, but knowing and seeing were very different things, Oliver knew that from experience already.

Meanwhile, Tommy and Aly were working on setting up some medical equipment that the two of them insisted were vital to "keeping you insane adrenaline addicts alive" as Tommy had put it to Felicity. They had become full team members now, and Oliver couldn't deny how good it felt to have his oldest friend's support in their quest to rid Starling City of crime, not to mention the relief he felt knowing that trained surgeons were on hand to help with any injuries. They tended to trade off who was in the base while the other watched the kids, but had agreed to both be here when they told Thea and her friends about their vigilantism.

When Tommy and Aly had presented their list of needed equipment, Felicity and Sara had proceeded gone out and returned having obtained a portable x-ray machine, an ultrasound machine and an EKG machine among others. According to Tommy, who'd appeared slightly freaked out, everything was apparently high-quality and in perfect condition, possibly not even second-hand. None of them had dared to ask how the two women had gotten their hands on it all, in case they actually told them.

Finally, Dig was monitoring the police scanner, but he spun around in the swivel chair on their entrance, rising to come over as he crossed his arms over his chest. Tommy and Aly stopped working on setting up the equipment (they'd been working on setting up a medical space for the past few days, refusing offers help so as to ensure that it was all arranged just the way the doctors wanted it to be. Oliver had been surprised at how ably they set up the machines, but Tommy had explained that the workers at the free clinic often fixed broken equipment or set up new stuff themselves to avoid the costs of hiring a professional. It had left them well-able to manage it themselves.), and the girls stopped sparring, Sara rolling her shoulder in a way that said that Felicity had probably hit an old injury.

"Hey guys," Felicity broke the silence.

"What the hell?" Thea said for the millionth time that day. "What's going on? Why do you have this...?" She trailed off, gesturing at the room to explain her meaning.

Felicity gave a small smile that failed to meet her eyes.

"Thea," she began. "I'm Artemis."

"Holy shit," Roy said bluntly.

Oliver thought it was a very apt statement.

* * *

_**Lian Yu: early 2009** _

_"Slade! Slade!" Felicity raced to Fyers' camp, with Sara stumbling along at her heels. The other young woman hadn't spent the past year navigating the rocky terrain, and as such had not, as Felicity had, developed the ability to race over the uneven ground as easily as a panther. They had destroyed or claimed most of the mercenaries' equipment and weapons, but the missile launcher they had left alone. The camp was in ruins from the missile hitting it, making it all the harder to run through. But there was no time to pause, not when their only chance to get off this hellhole and back home to their families was at stake._

_As they had feared and suspected, Slade was at the missile launcher's control pad. The covering had been torn off and tossed to the side indifferently, and the former ASIS agent was at the panel, his body blocking her view of what he was doing. But she could tell he hadn't activated it yet at least, and she said a mental prayer of thanks for the small mercy._

_"Slade!" She called again, and he finally turned._

_"Felicity," he muttered as she came to a stop just outside of arms length. Sara stumbled up beside her a moment later, chest heaving as she sought to regain her breath. "Stay back!" Slade demanded, eyes wild, aiming the tip of his sword at her chest._

_She held up her hands like she was soothing a wild animal, keeping her voice soft and gentle. "Slade, we know you're going to attack the freighter. Don't do it, Slade. Please, you have to listen to me."_

_"I'm going to send that murdering son of a bitch to rot at the bottom of the ocean for what he did!" Slade yelled._

_She barely refrained from flinching. He was degenerating before her eyes, and nothing she did even slowed it down, let alone put a stop to it._

_"Slade, I agree with you that Ivo needs to pay for what he did," she told him._

_And it was true, she did. What a change in personality not quite two years on the island had given her. Before washing up on the beach of Lian Yu, she would never have supported revenge, even if she wasn't always the best example of a law-abiding citizen (hacking being her main offence). Hell, she'd been openly_ _**against** _ _the death penalty, for crying out loud! Now, though, she had seen a different side of life, and changed as a result. Ivo had murdered Shado in cold blood, and he deserved to, he_ _**would** _ _, pay for it._

_"So why are you trying to stop me?" Slade bit out, glaring at her. But he wasn't working at the panel and had lowered his sword from her breast, nor was he making any threatening moves towards Sara, who was hovering quietly and anxiously in the background, watching Felicity's attempt to talk her grief and drug-crazed friend down._

_"Because if you destroy the boat, you'll destroy our only chance at getting off this hellhole," Felicity told him reasonably. Slade paused for a second, the haze of anger in his eyes seeming to clear a fraction. Then it returned, much to her dismay._

_"So long as Ivo dies, I don't care!" He declared._

_She pushed on grimly, choosing her words delicately to avoid setting him off again. "Think of Shado, Slade," she said, aware of the risk she was taking by mentioning their lost friend but doing so anyway. "She wanted nothing more than for us to get off this place, to go home! It doesn't have to be either avenge her or go home, it can be both! We can kill Ivo, and then use the ship to get to the mainland and then back home, to our sons! Don't you want to hug Joe again? I sure as hell want to hold Will and never let him go. If you destroy that ship and leave us all stranded here, Slade, then what the hell did Shado die for?"_

_Slade stared at her for several long moments before at last, to her utter relief, he stepped away from the control panel._

_"Alright Princess," he said gruffly. "I'm listening."_

* * *

The trio listened to Felicity and Sara's explanation with wide eyes. Thea and Roy shot looks at Sin when she admitted to knowing that Sara and the Canary were one in the same, but said nothing about it. Felicity hid her nerves with practiced ease as she spoke. She loved Thea dearly, and knew that, to Oliver, his sister came just behind their son in terms of importance. She had been worrying over her reaction to the news since they had decided that they had to tell them what they knew, given Thea's situation, which Sara had grimly reported to overhearing was getting worse.

Technically they could've just told Thea, but Sin knew a large amount already from Sara, and asking Thea to keep something so major from the guy she was in love with, especially when his idolization of Felicity was so well-known, would have been cruel. They'd judged the risk to be minimal, given that Thea, regardless of her reaction, wouldn't want her brother to end up in prison, Sin was already keeping what she knew to herself, and Roy was almost a team member already, given the whole informant thing.

"So," Thea said slowly, taking in everything all of the information that had been dumped on her in the past ten minutes. "Felicity is the vigilante whose been going around shooting people full of arrows for the past year and a half?"

"Yes," Felicity confirmed softly, keeping her gaze on her sister-in-law.

"I know you must be furious with us for keeping this from you," Oliver said, voice a bit choked and gaze fixed on his little sister. "And this probably won't mean much, but I swear Speedy, all we were trying to do was keep you safe. We only lied to you to protect you."

"If we were caught and arrested, you'd get off because you didn't know," Felicity added.

Thea turned to look at them. "That time with the hoods," she muttered. "You were the one who saved me. Artemis hadn't been seen for months until then. Not since the Undertaking. And then again with those masked guys a few weeks ago. You saved me then, too."

"I was exhausted after the Undertaking," Felicity explained apologetically. "I felt that I had failed, and the family needed me. I needed to take a step back from being Artemis for awhile. But I could never have stood back when you were in danger, so of _course_ I went after you. And as for the masked guys, yes, that was me as well. You're my family, I will _always_ come after you, Thea love. Always."

Thea looked around. Everyone else had drawn back, leaving the Queens to speak in relative privacy, though Roy kept casting glances over at his girlfriend to check if she needed him.

"All those times you weren't around, or I got upset with you because I _knew_ that you to us were lying about something, keeping something from me and Mom," Thea murmured. "All of those times, you were saving somebody's life, putting your own lives and freedom on the line to do it."

"Thea-" Felicity began, not fully certain what she was going to say, but she was cut off when the younger woman tackled her and Oliver in a group hug.

"Thank you," Thea said empathetically. "Thank you so much. I am so proud to be your sister. You are so _strong_ , Lissy. Thank you, I love you guys both so much."

A heavy weight removed itself from the couple's shoulders at Thea's reaction. They had been dreading her response since deciding it was time to inform her of the truth and do something about the Mirakuru. She had never been a supporter of Artemis, even if she didn't dislike her as much as other members of the 1% did.

The complete acceptance and, furthermore, the pride she expressed towards their illegal activities was completely unexpected. It took away the fear they'd been carrying and put smiles on their faces brighter than they had worn since Sara and Felicity had realized that Mirakuru was in play in the world once again.

"You guys done hugging things out then?" Roy called, making several members of the group roll their eyes and causing Sin to thump him on the shoulder in chastisement at his insensitivity.

"We'll talk more later, right?" Thea asked her brother and his wife.

Felicity nodded in agreement. "We know you must have questions, details you want to be filled in," she agreed. "Once, once we've explained the rest, we'll answer any question you have."

"What is the rest?" Sin wondered.

"And for that matter, why now?" Roy added. "You've kept this secret for so long, we had no idea you guys were all involved in this. Why tell us now?"

Felicity and Sara exchanged grim looks before turning to Thea.

"You mentioned the masked guys earlier," Sara began, to give her friend time to compose herself. "Do you remember what they did when they had you?"

Thea was made confused and nervous by the question, and her anxiety wasn't helped by the grim looks worn by the members of Team Artemis (as Tommy had dubbed them, much to Felicity's dismay). "No," she shook her head anxiously. "I thought-I assumed they wanted a ransom. What did they do to me?"

Sara exhaled heavily, Oliver took Thea's hand to lend her his support, and then the Canary began to explain Mirakuru and everything they knew about it to the young brunette, who looked more and more frightened with every word that fell from the blonde assassin's lips.


	32. Ceasefire's End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slade makes a move

" _The phony surrender's over; the ceasefire has ended. The final fight for the Republic has begun."_  
 _―_ _Marie Lu, Champion_

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow. Chap 31 was the last chapter with a flashback. Now it's all about the present. I didn't do an in-depth proofread of this chapter, too tired. Hopefully there aren't a million and a half mistakes turning it shite.**

**Read, enjoy and review!**

**(30/11/20: I tried to post this yesterday, but I couldn't upload it to the site for some reason. Apologies)**

**Chapter Thirty-Two**

**The Ceasefire's End**

Slade was more uneasy about the lack of knowledge on Felicity's plans than he would ever admit. He knew that his nemesis was an intelligent woman. A genius, actually. After letting go of that irritating discontent about harming anybody, even in self-defence or defence of another, she had flourished as a warrior, both mentally and physically. The study he had done of her since she had returned from wherever she had been in those three years between the explosion on the Amazo and her 'discovery' on Lian Yu (no doubt self-orchestrated to provide a convenient and only half-fake cover story about where she had disappeared to, given the photo he'd seen of her in Hong Kong and her not being on Lian Yu when he had looked for her after the explosion), her skills at combat and strategic mind had only blossomed even more.

So Slade knew, there was no way she would be willing to just lay back and let him destroy her precious city, especially with her young son and husband, as well as her in-laws and everybody else she loved, within it. As he worked to increase his army (which was growing at an insufferably small pace given how few subjects survived the injection and the need to only take people who wouldn't be missed or whose disappearance wouldn't be investigated thoroughly by anybody), she was working to counter and stop him. And while she had a vague idea of his plan, if not the details or numbers, he only knew that she would do whatever she had to do to stop him. They were at an impasse, both holding back to try and perfect their plans while seeing if they could get any knowledge of their opponent's strategy.

Slade, after dwelling for a while on what path he should take, made a decision. It was time to send in Ravager.

He picked up his plan and sent a text message to Rochev. _'Plan Robert's Revenge is a go.'_

* * *

Isabel smirked as she sauntered into Oliver's office, past the empty secretary desk. She had specifically picked this time because she knew there would be no witnesses who might interfere in her actions, given it was the assistant's lunchbreak. The CEO's bodyguard was away, dealing with a manufactured security problem in the lobby. The group had found a man who had recently been fired from one of QC's factories for trying to steal funds and convinced him to go into the lobby of the building and cause a racket. Not that it had been hard to manipulate the enraged man into doing so. They had ordered him not to do anything bad enough to cause the police to come, least the officers check on Oliver and see what Isabel was doing, but problematic enough that the black bodyguard (Dean? Darryl? Something with a 'D' anyway. Not that she cared) would be drawn away as head of the security department to help deal with it.

"Ms Rochev," Queen gave her a tight, fake smile. She felt a stirring of resentment and lust twist her belly. He was gorgeous, as gorgeous as his father had been. But then, that was the whole problem, wasn't it?

She had loved Robert, had been willing to throw away everything she had been working for to live out her life at his side. And what had he done when she suggested it? Told her that she was just some fun on the side for him, that he would never leave his family and company for her. That she wasn't worth losing everything. Then his damn wife had learned about their affair and arranged for her to lose her job at Queen Consolidated and end up having to leave Starling City after being discreetly blacklisted from every decent business job above EA in the city. And it was more than clear in the few interviews she managed to get that they knew she had been sleeping with her boss, and if she were hired, it wouldn't be for her skills in the _board_ room.

The mere memory of how Moira had humiliated her made her seethe in righteous fury.

Everything belonging to the Queens should have been hers. It _was_ hers by rights, and she _would_ get it, making Moira fucking Dearden Queen and her family suffer when she did it.

"Is there something I can help you with, Ms Rochev?" Queen asked her. She sashayed closer, a seductive smirk hanging on her red-painted lips as she perched on the side of his desk, her short skirt riding up to reveal her legs when she crossed them on top of one another. She felt a surge of anger when he didn't even look at them, his jaw tightening and fake smile vanishing at her actions.

"As a matter of fact, there is," she replied. He leaned backward against his chair when she reached out towards him, opening his mouth to say something. He never got the chance, as she shoved the tip of the syringe she had been holding discreetly in her hand into the side of his neck.

"Mister Wilson sends his regards to your wife," Isabel smirked viciously as she watched him slide into unconsciousness, a stricken look on his face at her mention of Slade.

Once he was unconscious, Isabel used her Mirakuru-enhanced strength to pick him up and carry him over her shoulder towards the private elevator, reserved for the CEO's sole use.

She couldn't wait to make Moira suffer the way she had suffered, taking everything the older woman cared about away from her, the same way she had taken everything from Isabel. Starting with her precious son.

* * *

Felicity had gone on a jog. She was in desperate need of some fresh air, and time to herself to think. Sara was back at the SCT office, overseeing both their business and Thea's training for the day, as she had no classes to attend. The younger girl had taken to the physical part of what they were teaching her easy enough, but the mental part was a lot harder for her.

Not surprising really. People in general struggled with meditation and gaining control over their emotions. Felicity had struggled with it a lot too, but there hadn't been much to do in the months of quiet between Fyers' death and Ivo's arrival, so Shado had taken to teaching her meditation, and Tatsu had added to her previous lessons.

That being said, difficult as it was to grasp, it was an important skill to have, and Thea having Mirakuru swimming through her system only made it more so. They couldn't rely on Roy always being around to snap Thea out of her anger, after all. But so far, he _was_ helping. It was interesting to witness for the scientist parts of Sara and Felicity, even if they were too wary to try and test it. It was strange that Thea, always so fiercely independent, now relied on her boyfriend the way little kids relied on their teddy bears or blankets, but it worked, so they let it go.

Roy too had joined their team, taking up archery with surprising ease (once he and Thea had gotten over their annoyance at Felicity's (or rather, Shado and Yao Fei's) 'hit the water' exercise). He had some hand-to-hand combat skills from his youth, but they were rough and needed polishing. Under the team's guidance, he was flourishing in his new role however. Finally, Sin too had joined them officially, but she was mostly either eyes and ears or med/tech support, always under instructions from the more experienced members of the team.

The blonde archer shook her head, waving away her thoughts. She had gone on the run to get away from her thoughts, not to sink further into an unending and repetitive spiral, after all. That was when, in the middle of the head movement, she spotted a glint of metal in the trees ahead of her. A glint she could recognize as easily as she recognized the palm of her hand.

It was a sniper rifle. Aimed in her direction.

Carefully, the archer slipped into a different stance, preparing to lunge for cover immediately. As she did so, she kept her expression even while she surveyed the park, searching for anymore threats. She identified two more potential perches in the forest-like area where snipers could position themselves along the route she'd been taking, and mentally cursed herself for her laxity, especially now of all time. She'd wanted to go to the park to get away from the hustle and bustle of the city proper, but there were specific trails for runners laid out, and it gained attention and often difficulties with the park security if you didn't follow them.

She casually came to a stop, trying to keep her body language from revealing that she had made the sniper and beginning to make her way to a kiosk selling refreshments on the other side of the park, near one of the gates. She was betting, based on the obscured perch chosen by the assassin, and the time being quiet enough that, if they caught her off-guard, she wouldn't be found for a while, that they didn't want to attract too much attention. Not before they had gotten away, at least. If she stayed in sight of others, she could probably keep them from coming after her until she could get to a better position to fight them.

Her fear that the hitman had been sent by Slade disappeared, and her wariness was replaced by annoyance when she arrived at the kiosk and found Amanda fucking Waller already there. As immaculately dressed as always, the ruthless but beautiful woman was accepting a steaming cup of what Felicity assumed was tea (Waller never drank coffee, for whatever reason. Even when she had been up for days dealing with a crisis, she stubbornly stuck to regular breakfast tea with a dash of milk. One of her few habits, and thus noted and tucked carefully away in the back of her mind by Felicity. Anything that could be used as an advantage in their tempestuous relationship, was to be used.) from the bored college-age girl manning the stand.

Felicity ignored Waller as she took her place at the kiosk, ordering a simple water, seeing as her own was empty now, and an energy bar. Then she made her way over to the bench where the director of ARGUS was sitting primly, sipping at her drink as she worked on her phone. Maybe she was ordering an airstrike on some village in the Middle East or something. It would be a very Waller thing to do, casually order the death of hundreds in between sipping her tea primly, not even smudging her dark red lipstick.

"That yours?" Felicity asked, hiding her words with a swig of her water. She tilted her head slightly in the sniper's direction to ensure Waller understood what she was referencing. She had no doubt she was right. Waller knew Felicity too well to meet her without insurance, just in case Felicity got fed up and tried to kill her, or made a move to release the incriminating information she had on ARGUS that would bring down the agency and probably cause a minor world war over which country Waller was extradited to. That USB, of which Felicity had six copies stashed away in various places, including her thigh (the dubious benefit of being a Bratva captain) was the reason she was able to walk around freely, without Waller dragging her back. Valuable as Felicity was, she wasn't valuable enough for Waller to risk her releasing the info to the world. "Not well hidden, is he?"

"He's adequate enough for his purposes," Waller shrugged in response, not removing her gaze from her phone. "A good shot, though not as good as you of course."

"If you were anybody else, I would think you were giving me praise," Felicity mused, knowing the older woman was simply stating a fact. Few could match, let alone beat, Felicity when it came to marksmanship. "So? What do you want?"

"Beneath the bench there is a vial taped to the seat," Waller responded evenly. "That is the new cure for Mirakuru created by my scientists. All it needs is proper testing to be performed on a human subject. Animal testing phase is done. I am sure you have some way to confirm its' success?"

"I'll get it done," Felicity agreed, discreetly feeling around for the small package. Once she had found it and pulled it off the bench, she swiftly slipped it into the pocket of her windbreaker. She decided not to look into how the hell the organization could have come up with a counter to the deadly drug so quickly. It hadn't been that long since Felicity had warned ARGUS of Slade's return and the Mirakuru's reappearance. Somethings it was best not to know about.

Still, Felicity knew that it would be as safe as the scientists could make it. Waller wouldn't risk handing over a sample unless she was a hundred percent positive it was safe to use. She knew that Felicity would kill her otherwise.

"I look forward to hearing the results of your test, Mrs. Queen," Waller whispered to her, as Felicity rose and began stretching in preparation for restarting her run, though she would head back to the site where she had parked her car to drive back to SCT as quickly as she could. The faster they had cured Thea, the more content Felicity would be. "Inform me of them. On confirmation of it being a success, my team will begin mass-production."

"Noted," Felicity muttered back, before returning to her run. _'Please,'_ she sent up a silent prayer to the god she wasn't sure she believed in. _'Please, let this work.'_

* * *

Thea was unconscious.

Ignoring the heavy protests of Tommy and Aly, who would much prefer to run their own tests on the sample supplied by ARGUS before injecting anyone with it, the young heiress had insisted on trying it out.

"We have to find out if it works," she pointed out to the two worried medical professionals. "And the best way to do that is to test it on someone with Mirakuru. Trying to kidnap Slade would be suicide, so I'm our best option."

The couple had given in under protest, and they had given Thea the injection. She had immediately fallen unconscious and, much to their alarm, started to seize. It had been quick, but ever since the end she had been unconscious, breathing normally with an oxygen mask over her face on Aly's insistence. She was hooked up to a dozen different machines, with everyone keeping a careful eye on her.

Felicity herself could feel worry and guilt twisting her stomach into knots. She silently vowed that if Thea suffered from the 'cure', Felicity would take it out on ARGUS' hide. She glanced at her phone, furrowing her brow anxiously. She had tried repeatedly to call Oliver and Diggle, and sent a million and a half text messages wanting to update them on Thea's state, but had received no reply. It made her gut churn warningly.

When Dig arrived, two and a half hours after Thea fell unconscious, with a grim expression on his face, she knew she had been right to worry.


	33. The Key to Success

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team prepares for a fight of their lives

_**Before anything else, preparation is the key to success.**_ - _ **Alexander Graham Bell**_

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow. This is a slightly shorter than usual chapter, meant to both bridge the gaps between the last chapter and the next one (almost there. Climax and epilogue I believe), and also as a Christmas present to my loyal and amazing readers. I freely admit to being half asleep while editing this, so sorry if I missed a bunch of mistakes.**

**Merry Christmas and a happy New Years to all! (Please God let 2021 be less memorable than 2020-the phrase "may you live in interesting times" was originally a curse, you know).**

**Chapter Thirty-Three**

**The Key to Success**

Felicity punched the wall so hard they all heard a loud 'crack' when her knuckle impacted the concrete when Dig grimly delivered the news that Isabel Rochev, the irritating bitch who'd made it her business to frustrate Oliver's every effort to restore QC to its' previous reputation, had kidnapped the CEO. Given the way she had lifted his muscular, tall form seemingly effortlessly, it was obvious that Rochev was in league with Slade and had been dosed with Mirakuru. Felicity cursed herself for not putting the pieces together earlier. In hindsight, it was obvious. She would have done the same thing in Slade's position, or at least something similar.

"Oh, yes, ruin your shooting ability now of all times, that really helps fix this disaster," Sara told her best friend sarcastically. "Feel any better?"

Felicity shot a glare at her. "A broken knuckle would never ruin my aim," the archer insisted stubbornly. Truthfully too. Felicity had made seemingly impossible shots with much worse injuries. "This barely counts as being hurt."

The two doctors scoffed in disagreement at that. Tommy was eyeing Felicity like he was debating whether or not he could persuade her to let him wrap her hand (he easily recognized that it was n unlikely hope) while Aly mostly kept her focus on Thea, reluctant to leave her unwatched even for a moment when she was unconscious after receiving an experimental drug, but Sara bobbed her head in agreement at Felicity's claim. The two of them had a disturbingly high pain tolerance that drove everyone around them spare. Especially Tommy and Aly.

"What are we going to do?" Dig interrupted the pair.

Felicity bit the inside of her cheek hard enough to make it bleed. "How's Thea doing?" She asked eventually, turning to the two physicians attending the heiress.

Aly pursed her lips, glancing over the various monitors the young heiress was attached too. "She'll be fine," she decided finally. "She's just unconscious, but her brain activity is assuring."

"So, does the cure work?" Sara wondered.

"According to these readings, yes, it seems like it," Tommy confirmed. "Best guess, she's not waking up because her body needs time to recover and adjust to the changes in her brain chemistry and muscles."

"Alright," Felicity murmured, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "Well, those bastards being unconscious for a while isn't gonna bother me. Dig, you said there was no ransom letter or any sort of message?"

"No, nothing except the hidden CCTV you have in Oliver's office," Dig responded. "Even the regular one was altered so it seemed like he left willingly with me after getting a phone call. Must have been some sophisticated cloning."

"Slade never settles for anything less than the very best," Felicity muttered, a plan beginning to form in her head. "Okay," she said after a moment. "I need to make a call to Waller and call in a couple dozen of the favours that she owes me."

"Alright," the others agreed.

"Should we start getting ready for a fight?" Roy asked anxiously.

Felicity gave a curt nod. "Definitely," she agreed. "A big one."

* * *

The ARGUS truck parked in the empty lot that had been selected for the meeting, and out of stepped Waller herself, Lyla and several dozen others all dressed in black special ops gear.

"You have the cure?" Felicity inquired briskly, striding over to the Director.

"I do," she confirmed, giving a sharp nod. "Two thousand vials of it, all prepared as you wished."

"Good," Felicity breathed. "Give me fifty-four doses*, and spread the rest around."

"Understood," Waller agreed, gesturing at her subordinates to get to work.

* * *

Lyla had been debating for the best part of two weeks now when (and if) she should tell Johnny her news. This wasn't something they had ever expected, ever planned for. Even before their divorce, when Carly was pregnant or Andy Junior was a baby, they had only briefly touched on the topic of the two of them having a child together once or twice in a "will that be us one day?" sort of conversation. Most of their marriage was spent in a warzone, where the thought of bringing a child into the world was unacceptable, and then when they returned stateside all they ever did was argue. Would this news bring them closer or cause too much strain on their re-burgeoning relationship, making it collapse for a second time?

Lyla didn't want that. Even when she was serving him divorce papers, desperate to get away from the ruins of her marriage before her love turned to hate, she still loved Johnny with all her heart. To this day she still wished they could have made it work the way they'd planned. The thought of losing him a second time was soul shattering. Especially when this time there was a child to be considered as well. Their baby was already the centre of Lyla's world. She couldn't, wouldn't let her and Johnny's relationship struggles affect their child.

She had informed her superiors immediately on the standard post-mission physical detecting her pregnancy, and as per protocol she was mostly being kept out of the field, staying in the various command centres overseeing the missions instead. But any time she tried to find the courage to call her ex-husband turned lover, she found herself chickening out in a way very uncharacteristic of her.

_Give me a terrorist holding a knife to my throat any day,_ she had thought with a mixture of ruefulness and bitterness every time she set the phone down without dialling his speed dial, or dodged his concerned questions on what she was keeping from him. He knew her too well to believe her when she tried to cover it up or blame it on work. She feared that by keeping her news to herself, she was letting him slip right through her fingers all over again. She feared the same would happen if she admitted the truth too.

But the sudden turn of events and Queen's kidnapping made her mind up for her. She didn't know Felicity's plan, but she knew her husband, and knew that he wouldn't stay back while his closest friends risked their lives against a deadly foe with a vendetta and nothing left to lose. Those were always the worst type of enemies to face.

She couldn't let him go and risk his life without knowing, so as soon as she could she pulled him away from the rest into a corner for some privacy, facing him and letting out a nervous breath.

"Lyla, you planning on telling me what's been going on with you lately?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. She could see the strain in his eyes, and knew that the guilt of Oliver being taken on his watch must've been killing him. Even as she doubted herself, she forced herself to push through the sickening twist of nerves in her gut. He had to know.

"Yes," she nodded, taking another nervous breath and releasing it. His concerned look increased, this time directed at her, and he reached out to cup her cheek. She couldn't have stopped herself leaning into his calloused hand if she wanted to.

"Lyla, whatever's going on, we'll get through this together," he insisted. "Just tell me. Don't shut me out Lyla, please."

"Johnny, I'm pregnant," she confessed before she lost her courage, meeting his suddenly stunned expression. It said a lot that her news made his eternally neutral expression disappear. "We're going to be parents."

* * *

Felicity noticed that Lyla had discreetly pulled Dig to the side and was speaking quietly to him. Whatever it was, they weren't arguing or anything, so Felicity ignored the couple and concentrated on grabbing the vials and preparing her supplies. If she knew Slade (and she did), then she knew exactly where and when to meet him. From their recent cold war, she knew that his mental state might be erratic from the effects of the Mirakuru, but he still followed the same type of strategy, the way he had been taught to plan by the Australian Secret Intelligence Service.

The one thing that worried her was whether or not he still knew her as well as he once had. If so, he would be able to predict her own plans as well. She could only pray that the three years with ARGUS and the Bratva had changed the way she strategized enough to keep him on the back foot.

"I just received confirmation," Waller informed her, putting a cell phone away and striding over to where Felicity was bent over a large box full of cures. "Your mother-in-law, son, sister-in-law and her boyfriend along with the rest, have all been taken into protective custody and moved to separate safehouses until this is over."

Felicity figured she was going to have some problems, both from ARGUS itself and from her family once this was over for having had the Queens, Roy, Sin and the Jacksons all hauled into protective custody without even warning them, but she didn't regret doing so. They would be as safe as could be under the watchful eyes of the ARGUS agents assigned to them. Felicity hated the agency with a passion, but she gave credit where credit was due. They were fucking good at what they did. (She was better though.)

Besides, if she was dead by the end of this crisis, there'd be no way for them to get pissed at her. Respect the dead and all that jazz.

Her only regret was that she hadn't been able to arrange for her dad to go into protective custody too, but with the coming disaster, he would probably be needed at the police station, and she doubted he would have been willing to go with the mysterious agents in the first place.

"What's your plan?" Waller interrogated her in an authoritative voice. Felicity hadn't informed the older woman of anything yet, simply calling her and giving orders, and the archer could tell her ex-boss was going out of mind from irritation at the lack of answers, despite her cool, emotionless expression and voice.

Felicity gave a dry smile in response to Waller's demand for knowledge, as she stood up, dusted off her vigilante uniform and slung her bulging quiver over her shoulder.

"My plan is to win."


	34. Over Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The showdown of Artemis versus Deathstroke

**Hey guys! Hope everyone had a good Christmas/New Years despite everything. I know everyone's fed up and sick of this shit, but please hang on and keep wearing masks/social distancing/etc. Vaccines are being dispersed now, but there's still a long way to go. Protect yourselves and the people you love. It'll be worth it when the pandemic ends with you and your family safe and** _**alive** _ **. Ignoring these regulations spreads this highly lethal virus. DON'T BE KILLERS, BE PROTECTORS!**

**This and the epilogue are all that's left, so enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow.**

**Chapter Thirty-Four**

**It's All Over Now**

"About time you showed up," Slade declared cockily with a smug smirk hanging on his lips. Felicity glared at him, but most of her attention was focused on Oliver. Thank God, he seemed alright, if bruised and pissed off. They exchanged looks, and she hoped he read her mind and picked up on what she needed him to do.

He gave a ghost of a nod, and she saw how he shifted a fraction, preparing to dive out of the way the second she gave the signal. He was unbound, the blade pressed to his neck enough to keep him subdued.

Slade hadn't given her any messages on where to show up, so Felicity had been forced to guess, based on her knowledge of Slade, what he would choose as the rendezvous point. She was unsurprised to be correct in her guess of the pier where the Queen's Gambit had set off from on that fateful voyage. She had deliberately avoided the docks as much as possible since her return, due to the dark memories she associated with the place, illogical as it was. No doubt Slade had picked up on her avoidance during his surveillance of her and chosen it in the hope of putting her on edge.

Bastard.

She knew they weren't alone. The area was useless for sniper perches, but she had spotted Laurel and Isabel as well as a few others hiding in different boats on her way to the dock reserved for the Queen family. They weren't particularly subtle, no doubt reliant more on their enhanced strength than actual skill. Felicity would bet that each of them were injected with Mirakuru. This would be a tough fight, but she trusted her team to deal with the others while she took on Slade.

"My invite got lost in the post," Felicity retorted sarcastically, thumbing her bow and judging whether she could shoot him before he broke her husband's neck or slit his throat. The odds weren't in her favour, meaning she needed to stall for a bit, get him angry enough to let go of Oliver so he'd be able to duck away.

"Shame, but better late than never I suppose," Slade smirked.

Felicity hummed, tapping the hilt of her sword (which she had coated in the cure, as well as doing the same thing for her extensive collection of knives). Each of her arrows, all twenty-seven of the large ones in her quiver and the twenty-seven dart-arrows attached to her arms and legs were all carrying vials of the cure too. All she needed was a single deep enough cut, and she had him.

Thea had collapsed within seconds of the cure being injected into her bloodstream, and had begun getting woozy pretty much straight away. Felicity could handle Slade for that long, as long as she relied on dodging and speed instead of trying to take him on with brute force (not that that had ever been her style.). All she had to do was hit him deep enough and then keep him at bay until the cure kicked in.

It hurt, like a knife to the chest (something she had personal, real-life experience with) to fight Slade. Even now, after so much discord and violence, a part of her still thought of him as the man who had single-handedly taken on a dozen gun-wielding mercenaries with just a sword to save her life, who had been a surrogate brother to her for almost two years. Everything that had come after couldn't erase what had come first.

But for Oliver, for William and the rest of their family and friends and the people of the city who were all at risk, Felicity would do it. She would set aside her care for Slade and force herself to see him only as an opponent. She couldn't let herself do anything less, or else she couldn't guarantee that she would put her everything into this fight, and that would almost certainly be fatal.

Still, a part of her still tried to reason with him, even if she knew it was hopeless. He was overcome by the Mirakuru, and lost in the same angry grief that had haunted him even before they met.

"Slade, you don't have to do this," she said softly. "Shado wouldn't want innocents hurt in her name. And from what you told us of them, I don't think Adeline and your kids would want this either. They loved you, had faith in you. You shame their memories by murdering in their names."

Slade snarled at her, eye flashing with hatred. "How dare you?!" He growled. "How dare you mention them, when you're the reason they're dead!"

Felicity shook her head. "I bare part of the blame for Shado, that's true, but Ivo killed her, Ivo chose to kill her instead of killing me or Sara. And I had nothing to do with Adeline and Joe's deaths. That was all you, Slade."

He let out an incoherent yell of rage at her words and threw Oliver to the side like a ragdoll to charge at her. Oliver landed harshly on the ground and smacked his head, groaning softly. Felicity would have rushed to his side if she could, but she had her own hands full dealing with Slade.

She had no choice but to focus on the fight and ducking Slade's wild but powerful attacks whilst she tried to land her own hit with her knives (at this range, neither her arrows nor her sword would work, mores the pity. They were her best weapons and if she could use them, this fight would be a lot simpler for her). She was skilled enough however, that she could take a split second to affirm that the others had also engaged. Dig and some ARGUS agent were taking on a masked man while Sara was fighting Laurel, the two sisters exchanging words harsh as their blows. From the quick glance she saw, Felicity suspected they were aiming to maim, if not outright kill, though Laurel was clearly relying more on her enhanced strength than her abilities. God, she dreaded how Quentin was going to feel. Nearby, Oliver was dodging Rochev's blows skilfully, thank God. The other, nameless Mirakuru soldiers Slade had brought with him had all been engaged by ARGUS agents, and there was an ARGUS-created barrier surrounding the docks to contain the battle.

"You bitch!" Slade snarled, drawing her attention back to him as she ducked a blow that, given his inhuman strength, would probably have crushed her ribcage like a can. She swiped at his thigh with a knife, hoping to both damage his ability to move as well as get the cure into his bloodstream, but the Mirakuru had caused his mind to deteriorate, not his fighting skills and he dodged it quick enough that she barely pricked him. Not enough to affect him the way she wanted, _needed_ him to be affected.

He managed to sweep her legs out from underneath her and she landed on her back, rolling to the side just in time to avoid being decapitated by his sword. As it was, she spotted a few strands of hair on the ground from his blade giving her an impromptu trim. As she rolled, she spied Oliver ducking the blow of one of Slade's masked minions, and she could hear the sounds of fighting echoing throughout the docks.

She kicked out instinctively, burying her heel into Slade's pelvis and making him snarl a curse as she quickly jack-knifed back to her feet and unsheathed her sword, spinning and countering a blow just in time. She was damn fit, but the force needed to counter Slade's brute strength was making her short of breath already. And with his enhanced speed, she was struggling to go on the offensive, needing to keep all of her focus on holding him at bay.

She forced herself to block out the sounds of her group's struggles. A single second of hesitation would kill her.

* * *

Sara had demanded to be the one allowed to engage Laurel during the fight. She felt a deep sense of ire and betrayal towards her sister and was determined to gain revenge for her treachery.

Oh, she and Laurel had never been close, not like Sara and Felicity were close. They were too different. Sara had been a wild child, free and loving to live life. With Felicity at her side, she had coasted through school easily (Felicity would never consider helping her cheat, but Sara was a smart person in her own right and had kept an A- average with her best friend's help), happy with the life she had.

Laurel, meanwhile, set her sights on power at a young age, and was hyper-focused on it from the start. She had set her goals and when her plans to become Mrs. Queen, the female half of Starling's future 'It Couple' had gone up in smoke, she had blamed Sara for introducing Felicity and Oliver after he transferred to Harvard.

But even with the schism between them for the entirety of their adolescence, Sara loved her sister. Thoughts of not just her parents but Laurel too, had kept her sane while she worked off her debt to the League of Assassins. That Laurel had become so spiteful she would go against everything their parents raised them to believe just to get revenge for a break-up, that she would allow herself to be injected with _Mirakuru_ of all things, the thing Sara was most terrified of and utterly despised, utterly enraged the Canary.

"Have you thought about what this will do to Mom and Dad?" Sara spat bitterly at Laurel, ducking a swing and punching her straight in the nose. While Laurel was fucking strong and a decent fighter, she was nothing compared to the Canary. It was like comparing Little League and Major League baseball players. Sara was managing easily. She was satisfied to see that, serum or no serum, the punch had managed to break Laurel's nose, though it would probably start healing immediately. Hopefully it would heal crooked and ruin Laurel's precious good lucks. Her sister had always been vain.

She kicked Laurel's side and at last yanked a knife from its place on her belt. Sara's knives were, like the others' weapons, coated in the cure. There was no point coating her staff in it, given that it needed to be in the bloodstream to work, so knives it was.

It probably made her a terrible person, having no qualms about stabbing her own sister, but Sara was pissed enough not to give a fuck. She had no intentions of killing Laurel, but making her pay for what she had not only done, but been willing to do? That was a whole 'nother story.

"Why should I care how they feel?" Laurel spat back, managing to dodge Sara's swipe and kicking out. This time it connected, and Sara let out grunt of pain as she was sent flying backwards into a boat. "They never cared about me!" Laurel ranted bitterly. "Mom upped and left the moment you went missing, and Dad disappeared into the bottom of a bottle. They left me! They weren't there for me when Ollie left me for that bitch and her brat! The bitch you introduced him to, never mind that he was _my_ boyfriend! And you, the whole time we were grieving for you and you were, what, travelling the world not giving a fuck that we thought you were dead!"

Sara scoffed and shook her head. "God, you're pathetic!" She hissed as she scrambled back to her feet. "You and Oliver had already split up by the time that I introduced him and Lis. As for that bullshit about Mom and Dad not caring about you, God, how self-absorbed can you be? Sure, they fucked up, but you're one to talk about becoming an alcoholic because of losing someone!"

Laurel let out an incomprehensible howl and hurled herself at Sara. And at the blade of the knife Sara was pointing outwards. It pierced her side (Sara never hit a place she didn't intend to and as furious as she was, Laurel was still her sister) and sent her to her knees in surprise at the sudden burst of pain. Soon after, she began to seize and fall unconscious as Sara pinned her down and prepared to restrain her so she could be taken into custody.

* * *

Oliver was pissed as he ducked Isabel's punch. _'Thank God Felicity and Dig insisted on me training so much'_ he thought absently as he jumped backward, trying to stay out of range. He wasn't an idiot, quite the opposite actually. He had no weapons and while his fighting skills were better than Isabel's, she had superior strength and endurance from the Mirakuru in her veins. His best option was to get away, but she was fast enough to block his every attempt. the fight had moved a fair distance from the origin point, but she kept too close for him to get away, as well as blocking him from getting to the others for help.

"When I've killed you, I'm going to show your damn mother your corpse!" Isabel hissed at him, a wild, insane light in her dark eyes. She had been ranting for a while about his parents. As it turned out, she'd had an affair with Robert years ago, and it seems to have ended on a very sour note. Taking control of QC was so she could destroy his father's life's work, and everything else was about making his mom suffer. "Then," the madwoman continued with her monologue. "I'll make her watch as I kill that brat of a sister of yours! I'll make her suffer! She wasn't even his daughter, but he chose her over me anyway! How fucking dare you? I'll make your whole family pay for what you did to me!"

"What?" The claim of Thea not being Robert's daughter startled him, allowing Isabel to gain the upper hand and send him to the ground. She was straddling him before he could react, still ranting about how she would make his family suffer even as she raised a fist to smash his face in, and Oliver braced himself, shutting his eyes instinctively. A second later, there was a gunshot, and he felt her go limp on top of him.

Oliver was unsurprised to open his eyes and see that Dig had been the one to save him, having put a bullet right through Isabel's forehead, killing her instantly.

"Thanks man," he told his friend as Dig hauled Isabel's body off him and helped Oliver to his feet.

"No problem," Dig shrugged it off. "Sorry I let her get her paws on you in the first place."

Oliver waved the apology away dismissively. "She was good at hiding what a psycho she was," he replied indifferently, though the memory of her words about Thea continued to linger. He shoved it in a box to be dealt with later. Right now there were more important things to worry about.

"Where's Felicity?"

"Over there, facing off with Slade," Dig replied grimly, pointing at two figures clashing swords.

"We gotta help her!" Oliver exclaimed, picking up on the fact that the smaller figure was being overwhelmed by her opponent.

"Let's move," Dig agreed, leading the way over to the fight.

* * *

Felicity held out a long time, but eventually Slade managed to take advantage of her flagging energy and disarm her. Her sword was just out of reach, her bow and quiver had been lost as they clashed and moved through the docks, and she was now pinned, unable to attack him with a knife or arrow dart. She stared at him defiantly, resigned to her fate. She was too exhausted to keep fighting, and the position they were in, her flat on the ground with his sword tipping the centre of her chest, his feet crushing her fingers to keep her in place, prevented her from doing so anyway.

"You're not walking out of this," she warned him. "ARGUS agents have surrounded the whole dock and have a helicopter in the air. Even if you took a boat, they'd catch you."

Slade shrugged, a wild, excited grin on his face. "So long as I bring you down with me, I don't care," he answered bluntly. "It's a shame you won't see your precious family or city be destroyed, but you've suffered and you'll die knowing you failed. That's enough. Without revenge, I have nothing left."

"Grant and Rose are still alive," Felicity pointed out softly.

He twisted his lips bitterly. "I lost them when Adeline and Joe died," he responded. "I have enough sanity left to realize that, at least."

Felicity sighed heavily and nodded. "I wish things hadn't turned out like this," she said regretfully.

Slade briefly looked solemn. For a single moment, the man Shado loved had returned. "Me too," he acknowledged, before the sorrow was again replaced by insane rage and he raised his sword.

A second later, she heard a yell, and an arrow sprouted from his throat. They both blinked in shock as Slade staggered back, one hand pressed to his throat as he choked on blood. Acting on instinct, ignoring the agony in her broken hands, Felicity grabbed her sword and lunged at him, swinging and severing his head completely. She stared blankly at the body for a moment before looking up to see who the shooter had been.

A broken laugh left her painted lips when she saw Oliver holding her (Shado's) bow and running towards her, slightly ahead of Dig.

He pulled her into his arms the moment he was within reach, and she buried her head in his shoulder, shaking with sobs. Whether she was crying from pain, relief or grief, not even Felicity knew.

"It's okay, it's over now," Oliver whispered in her ear, rocking her slightly like they did for Will after a nightmare. "I have you, we're okay. It's all over now."


	35. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The epilogue

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow.**

**Well guys, here it is. The final part of Artemis. I want to thank you all for following this story as I wrote it, for your kind reviews that persuaded me to keep going even if I was feeling a bit of writer's block. You guys rock, and I hope that the epilogue lives up to expectations.**

**Epilogue**

The Justice League had been formed as a subdivision of ARGUS after Lyla had become Director following Waller's assassination in late 2015, one of Obama's final acts as President. It was made up of 'Team Artemis' from Starling City, (Felicity herself as team leader, Dig, Oliver, Sara, Roy and Thea as 'field operatives'-though she and Oliver were never on the field at the same time-and with Tommy and Aly as medical and tech support back at their base.), 'Team Flash' from Central (made up of Barry Allen, his wife Iris as their support, a guy from a parallel universe named Harrison Wells, also tech support, and Wells' daughter Jesse along with Cisco Ramon and Caitlin Snow as Barry's back-up, with the field operatives all being meta-humans) and 'Team Bat' from Gotham (Bruce Wayne and his cousin Katherine Kane moonlighted as Batman and Batwoman respectively with the oldest of Bruce's eight children, several friends and, on occasion, Bruce's on-again, off-again lover, Silena Kyle, Catwoman, making up the rest of their group). Through Vibe, a.k.a Cisco's ability to hop to different dimensions, they also had contact with people such as Kara Danvers 'Supergirl' and her cousin Clark Kent 'Superman' on their Earth, and with several others such as Jefferson Pierce, under the alias of Black Lightning on another. On the creation of the JL, they'd all been cleared of all their criminal charges (such as vigilantism), and their work was now legal and done in conjunction with law enforcement, though their real names were kept hidden as per their agreements.

It was a great improvement for them in many ways, though Felicity was always embarrassed when she had to pass by the statue of Artemis erected in the park, labelled 'Starling's Superhero'. No longer was Artemis considered a dangerous, psychotic serial killer taking the law into her own hands. Now, she and her team were Starling's saviours. The people of the Glades practically worshipped her.

Even some of the 1% liked her. Lower crime rates and the knowledge that there was a real-life superhero in the city brought more people to the city and cleaned up the Glades, leading to more people needing employment, leading to more money in the elite's pockets. They didn't dare risk dirty dealing, however. Artemis _always_ found out if they did, and while she no longer killed them for it, she had no qualms breaking a couple of bones and putting an arrow in a non-lethal area before arresting them and destroying their reputations. It just wasn't worth the risk of her wrath.

On a more personal note, things for the Queens' family and friends had improved as well. After Slade, Felicity and Oliver had revealed everything to Moira. Only to learn that the shrewd socialite had already figured it out but hadn't wanted to risk saying anything for her family's sake. That talk had also led to Moira admitting that Thea was the biological daughter of Malcolm Merlyn, not Robert Queen after Oliver had brought up Isabel's rant during their fight. Thea had been devastated at the revelation and Oliver had been helplessly furious, and there had been a schism in the family for months until they had finally started to repair the damage, helped by the knowledge that Robert had known, and hadn't cared, loving Thea as dearly as if she were his blood. Walter, who had reunited with Moira shortly after the fight, had played a large part in repairing the damage to the family's relationship with one another.

Once the school year was up, Felicity and Oliver had gathered up their son and gone off on a round-the-world trip, taking a desperately needed break from everything. They had come back in time for the births of John Diggle Junior and his twin sister, Sadie, named for Lyla's best friend in the army who had died in Afghanistan. Everyone had been stunned speechless when Felicity had returned with her own baby bump, as they had carefully hidden the news whenever they called home to check in. After everything Felicity's body had been through over the years, no one had been without concerns or fears, but Lucas Robert Queen was born hale and hearty shortly before Christmas, if smaller than the doctors would have preferred, with his mother's natural brunette curls (like William), a dimpled smile that Moira liked to claim could melt the Arctic it was so bright and the same bright blue eyes of his father. He and the Diggle twins were close friends, and, like his elder brother, Lucas was already proving himself to have inherited his mother's high intelligence and his father's creative flare, despite not being four yet. Unlike most of his family, he seemed to be more into the arts, whether it was actual art (the fridge was covered in his drawings and colouring sheets) or music, though he was too young to be sure about anything. Still, he had already started learning piano from Moira, and it was a frequent occurrence to wander into the music room at Queen mansion and find her with her young grandson on her knee, guiding his tiny fingers over the keys carefully.

William himself had proven to be a devoted older brother, as well as an adored cousin-figure to the twins and Tommy and Aly's toddler daughter, Rebecca Jackson. Where most teens would groan and complain at being conscripted into babysitting their younger siblings and cousins, Will was always up for it (so long as he didn't have plans already). It helped that his closest friends were Aly's kids and that he would often find himself watching the little ones with them while their parents fought crime or did some QC or Canary Tech related business. If not with the Jacksons, he would usually share babysitting duties with Tim Drake, the youngest of Bruce's adoptive sons (though he was a little older than Bruce's only adoptive daughter, Cassandra). Tim was old enough for his father to let him train, but too young to be allowed on the streets, much to his dissatisfaction. That being said, Tim was always happy to hang with Will, and vice versa. Only a few short months previously, William had admitted to his parents and grandparents that he was gay, something that had been supremely unsurprising to them, much to his shock. But really, all one had to do was see how Will and Tim acted around one another to figure things out.

When not hanging around Tim with pink cheeks or helping look after his kid brother, William was often found at his mother's side. Despite years having passed, a part of him still feared that he would lose her again. He had learned only a basic (in Felicity's opinion, which was very different to most people's 'basic') level of self-defence. Fighting didn't interest him. Technology _did_ , however. He had no intention of following in his parents' footsteps physically, but he'd be happy to take over as tech support for Team Artemis in the future, and it was a given that he would be CEO of Queen Consolidated one day. Unlike Oliver, who had taken the reigns of the company out of duty, not desire, Will was eager for it. Currently, he planned to attend MIT, like his mother, and obtain an engineering and business degree, then spend a few years working at Canary Tech before moving to QC, to get used to the duties before having the responsibility of a Fortune 500 company on his hands. Already he'd done a summer internship at QC and was now in the middle of his second. He intended to do at least a month of work in every department, to get to know how it all worked, from mail to R&D. His parents, aunts, uncles and grandparents had all been glowing with pride when he laid out his plans for them.

As for the other members of the family, Walter had just been elected as Mayor of Starling City when Thea shocked the family speechless by announcing that she and Roy had eloped as she was pregnant. Liana Felicity Harper was born in summer 2017 with a full head of brunette hair (nearly a mohawk, a subject of much amusement to everybody save Thea, who got more than a little indignant whenever the topic came up. Although Speedy was no longer hyped up on Mirakuru, she was still an excellent shot, and a wicked fighter after Felicity and Sara's training, so they tended to keep it away from her hearing) and eyes that changed to grey after several months. While Thea was now around halfway to officially being a surgeon, Roy had become a rising star in the SCPD, and was on track to setting a record for youngest gold shield detective. Liana was his little princess, and everyone knew that she was going to be a spoilt brat, as he could deny her nothing.

Things weren't as plain sailing for the Lances. Quentin and Dinah were both devastated by Laurel's actions. They were even more pained when she was declared guilty by reason of insanity and sentenced to a mental institution for a minimum of twenty years for conspiracy to commit terrorism. They cursed themselves for not realizing just how bad things had gotten with her, too caught up in themselves and Sara's return. Quentin in particular was furious with himself, given he was the one in Starling, and who had noticed Laurel's spiral down into alcoholism. But every dark cloud has a silver lining as they say, and when Dinah moved back to Starling to be closer to her daughters (despite Laurel's anger towards her parents, they stubbornly visited her several times a week. Eventually, after the therapy started working, Sara began making the occasional, short visit as well.), she and Quentin eventually ended up reconnecting and got married again, though not without significant problems and lots of couples' therapy. Although his career had taken another hit when it came out that one of his daughters had helping plot to destroy the city (a _very_ sensitive topic at the time, with memories of the Undertaking still raw a year later), he had recovered and, when Walter was elected as Mayor, he proceeded to name Quentin as the new Police Commissioner, where he was flourishing.

And thankfully, despite the alarming pattern that had appeared to have begun emerging at the time, the fight with Slade was the last major attack on Starling the team had been forced to deal with. Nowadays, save for major threats that required the JL to team up to combat, most of what Team Artemis dealt with were minor drug lords or petty criminals. Everyone knew that setting up criminal activities in Starling City was doomed to a painful failure, so most avoided it. Crime rates had dropped by 97%. The remainder was mainly due to the mob families that stubbornly clung to their territory in the city, and the team was steadily chipping away at their power, curbing more and more with each operation. The worst thing they had dealt with was an attack by a group of psychotic meta-humans in early 2018, an attack they had repelled with minimal civilian casualties, aided by the police helping instead of hindering them.

As for Sara, she had ended up reconnecting with her old lover from the League of Assassins. As it turned out, said lover was not just any member of the League, but the leader's daughter. And, by 2018, the leader. Oliver didn't know the details, but the previous 'Demon's Head' had died, and Nyssa had replaced him. On doing so, she had reached out to Sara. They had a long-distance sort of thing going on. Oliver didn't really get how it worked, but he understood that Sara was happier than she had been since returning from the League, so he was happy for her.

Oliver shook away his memories of how the last several years had gone as they approached the medical wing. Lucas was on his hip, sucking at his thumb and playing with a button on Oliver's shirt. Clever as he was, at three, he didn't fully understand what was going on. Will was half-bouncing with eagerness and excitement as they arrived at the door.

"Don't be too loud now, okay?" Oliver warned the boys, more Lucas than William. "Mommy's still feeling very tired."

Luke withdrew his thumb to press a finger to his lips and make 'shush' sound. Oliver's already broad grin widened, and he nodded.

"That's right," he confirmed. "Shush. Good boy."

"Come _on_ Dad, I want to see them," Will urged impatiently. Oliver smirked at the teenager's eagerness and reached out to open the door to the hospital room.

Felicity was reclining against a pile of pillows on the bed in the centre of the room, looking drawn and exhausted and utterly beautiful as she smiled lovingly down at the tiny pink bundle cradled in her arms.

She turned her smile on her husband and sons as they entered, shifting the baby into one arm to reach out the other towards them in a silent invitation.

"Come and meet your little sister, boys," she urged them.

"Down, Daddy," Lucas demanded. Oliver warned him to be careful as he placed him on the bed beside Felicity. Thankfully, Luke was a gentle child and had some experience with a baby from Liana, enough to know to be careful as he peered at the baby. "Pretty baby sister," he stated decisively after a moment of studying her tiny, pink and scrunched up face. "I like her."

The proud parents hid their laughter at the serious declaration, and Felicity stroked his hair.

"I'm very glad to hear it," she said sincerely. Given the many other kids around him, they hadn't been too concerned about any possible feelings of sibling rivalry, but it was still good to hear that the first impression he had of his little sister was a good one.

"What's her name?" Will asked as he hurried to his mother's side and leaned over to get a better look at the child in her arms.

"Her name is Mia," Oliver announced proudly. "Mia Donna Queen, for her grandmothers."

* * *

**AN: In the comics, Roy's daughter is named Lian, but given Felicity was stranded on Lian Yu, I've elected to tweak it to Liana instead.**

**Again, thank you all so much for your support of this story. You guys rock. Stay strong and stay safe. The more we follow government regs, the quicker this pandemic will get under control, so social distance, wear masks, be OCD about hand washing and get vaccinated asap!**

**I love you all! See you in the comments on my other stories, I hope.**


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